


We were built to fall apart, then fall back together

by mandzilkos, morisco



Series: Darling, I've been calling on God for you (hope that He picks up) [2]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:03:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23876911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandzilkos/pseuds/mandzilkos, https://archiveofourown.org/users/morisco/pseuds/morisco
Summary: Michael's gaze was intense, flashing under the lights of the dancefloor just beside them, in a colour Daniel couldn’t see. It occasionally flitted to Daniel’s hands as he lifted his drink to his mouth. Michael’s lips occasionally twitched, like he wanted to ask Daniel something. Daniel waited.“So are you?” Michael asked, eventually.“What?”“In love with your teammate?”Daniel took a long sip of his – Michael’s – drink.“If you can get from that –” Daniel gestured at the narrow corridor leading to the restrooms. “To ‘you’re in love with him,’ then you must be either stupid or crazy.”“You’re reacting,” Michael said calmly. “Don’t react to me. Respond.”“Cheers, cunt,” Daniel said, then downed the remainder.Michael just shook his head and went to collect two glasses of water.Sometimes Daniel admired how Michael stood by his side even though he was a...mess.
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen, Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, Michael Italiano/Daniel Ricciardo
Series: Darling, I've been calling on God for you (hope that He picks up) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720714
Comments: 18
Kudos: 105





	We were built to fall apart, then fall back together

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this soulmate au prompt from tumblr user apharthurkirklands: au where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate. Additionally: when your soulmate dies, the world goes back to black and white.
> 
> This fic has the same characters and runs in parallel with the first fic of the series, but may be read alone if you wish so. It was actually all a ploy by @morisco to get me to write more F1 and also some self-indulgence on both our parts. But I’m super glad that she joined me in writing this one because she made all of it infinitely better. And of course after everything that happened in the previous fic all we wanted to do was to give Danny a reason to see colour again :) 
> 
> Huge thanks for all your support for the first one, we hope you enjoy this one just as much, and comments are always welcome! You can also find me on tumblr at olivertorres.
> 
> Stay safe!

There were really only two moments in Daniel’s life that had truly shaped him.

When he was thirteen, and he saw the pinks and yellows of wildflowers for the first time because the girl who was plucking them for her mom was Daniel’s soulmate.

And when he was seventeen, when he was in a Woolworth’s and suddenly the bread packaging turned from green to grey because the heavens decided to make her an angel.

Daniel didn’t have a say in meeting her, neither did he have a say in losing her.

He couldn’t even see the colour of the car that had so cruelly taken her life.

He knew by heart the colour of the dress she was wearing, but on her unmoving body, it failed to manifest in his eyes.

The tiny sapphire stone embedded in the engagement ring on her finger.

It was all grey to him. 

Never getting to say goodbye to her hung over Daniel like a dark cloud, the same dark cloud that casted black and white over everything, instead of the colour that Daniel had gotten used to over the last five years and now knew he would probably never get to see again. And from that day, home was never the same.

Daniel resolved to leave for somewhere the greys weren’t so grey. 

The adrenaline motoracing gave him pushed him towards Europe, where things seemed better, if not brighter. The days they’d spent in Melbourne, watching as the cars raced the circuit, pushed Daniel towards Europe, to chase motorsport glory. 

Daniel had always been fascinated by cars, so it was natural.

Sometimes Daniel wondered if God had a good time laughing at the irony with which his soulmate was taken away from him. 

*

Daniel went to his first auto exhibition in Monaco, the year of his eighteenth birthday. 

The brand new F1 cars shone in the sunlight, that much Daniel could see. He wished they weren't all just different shades of grey. 

Michael Schumacher was there – Daniel caught a glimpse of him as he was crowded by media – and his brother was over by the Hondas with Jos Verstappen. 

Maybe if Daniel had taken karting more seriously in his early days, he'd have been a step closer to sitting in those cars and mingling with those people. 

But now he knew he would do anything to make the girl with the wildflowers up in heaven proud of him. 

And he knew it wasn't too late to start pushing towards the very top. 

\------

Max was like...a tiny light at the end of Daniel's tunnel. 

He shone from the very moment he was put next to Daniel, so much more to him than his eighteen years of age. He was but an old head put on young shoulders, but he carried it well.

Their first time being Red Bull teammates in Barcelona ended in victory for Max, though Daniel couldn’t help but feel a little bit shortchanged. Nevertheless, the fact that Max came to Daniel’s room to look for him at dinnertime told Daniel how determined he was to start things off the right way, despite all the circumstances. The little shine in his youthful eyes made Daniel want to give him all the help and companionship he needed to fit into this world he was so suddenly thrust into; this world where he seemed like the smallest fish in the pond, but somehow Daniel knew he was going to fit right in.

Daniel could tell the fajitas were too spicy for Max, but he watched Max swallow them all anyway, proud of himself that he didn’t say a word about it.

Daniel just _knew _he was going to have so much fun with this guy.

Max became just like Daniel’s sidekick at every party. Daniel understood why he constantly stuck by Daniel’s side, but even on top of that Max had such a...strong presence. He just held so much inside him that no one else seemed to see.

*

In Germany, Daniel and Max got on the podium together for the first time. Daniel turned to look at him from across Lewis and saw Max already looking back at him. 

Max smiled a smile so big that the shine in his eyes momentarily disappeared behind his cheeks.

Daniel had to spray him in the face with champagne just to stop his own heart from jumping out of his chest. 

*

In Malaysia, their 1-2 finish, Max didn’t even hesitate drinking from Daniel’s shoe.

Daniel was a little surprised, honestly. He’d really only known Max for less than a year, and despite all the fun they had together Max had never really told Daniel much about himself. And now there he was, drinking out of Daniel’s fucking shoe without batting an eye.

He was hit with another surprise that night at the after-party, when a very evidently drunk Max suddenly said, “Daniel.”

“Yeah mate?”

“The past five months have been the best of my life.”

Daniel laughed. He clinked his glass against Max’s. “Good to hear that.”

“It just, you know,” Max shrugged. “Feels nice to be...welcome somewhere for once.”

“Nah, kid,” Daniel said. “You’re welcome everywhere with me.”

“I know that,” Max laughed. “Just...when I’m not with you.”

It was something to do with his father, Daniel knew for sure. Max tensed up whenever he was around. He rarely talked about him. And now that he was thinking about it, he was just looking at his drink forlornly. 

“Hey,” Daniel said, tapping on Max’s glass with a finger. “It’s no problem. We have fun, don’t we?”

The smile returned to Max’s face, and Daniel was relieved.

*

Max lived with his soulmate and a friend in Monaco, just a couple buildings away from Daniel, and his other friends frequently came over to visit. Max had known them since they were teenagers; Daniel knew there was a big group of them, but it was usually just a dude named Nick and his soulmate who made the trip. The tall one named Katja was Max’s soulmate, that much Daniel knew. Or that much they made him think.

Daniel was just glad that they seemed to have given Max a great childhood despite his father’s existence. And that, besides Daniel, Max had someone else to rely on.

It was hard not to be surprised when Max told him that Katja wasn’t really his soulmate. Max hid it well – Max hid things well, Daniel was beginning to notice. He hid his loneliness well. His anger. His desire to find someone that cherished him.

It couldn’t have been easy, being constantly surrounded by people who’d already found their destiny. 

Daniel understood. Monaco was probably the most colourful city he could’ve chosen to live in, but Daniel could never appreciate it in full even if he tried. He was reminded of that every day.

Daniel wondered how long he could resist the urge to ask Max about his real soulmate.

\------

Michael tried not to blink, watching the purple hospital gown that covered Lachlan’s chest go up and down. It moved so little that if he wasn’t concentrating, he would miss it. And it scared him. 

Lachlan looked frail and small in his hospital bed, the tan he used to sport over rippling strong muscles long gone, leaving behind papery skin that looked sallow and pale, but never grey. His previously pink and lush lips were chapped even though Michael had made sure to put Vaseline on them that morning.

Michael had known since Lachlan’s relapse, for the past three years now, that their time together would come to an end. And every doctor’s appointment, every chemo session, every night tending to his soulmate had felt like a journey, one he would take no matter how many times it had to be done over again. 

No amount of conversation and counselling, and assurances from Lachlan, however, could have prepared him for this. 

To watch the life ebb away from his soulmate. The one person born for him to love, and be loved by. 

The neon red numbers on the digital clock glowed an eerie twelve at midnight. Michael looked down at the vitals monitor, the green line for Lachlan’s ECG going up and down, up and down – 

Until it didn't. The sound from the vitals monitor was deafening, and he didn’t hear the nurses around them rustling and moving as he lowered his head down to Lachlan’s hand, kissing it one last time.

Tears blurred his vision, but when he looked up at Lachlan’s unmoving chest, his gown was no longer purple. Greys marred his face, his hands. His hair.

Michael turned to the clock; 3:00 glared back in grey. The flat line for Lachlan’s heartbeat was white against the black screen. Colour drained from around him just as the source of his happiness did from their world.

\-----  
2017  
\-----

Daniel hated all the attention that Melbourne came with. 

He took it all alone, being the only Australian on the grid. The smile on his face was never fake – but sometimes it was forced.

Daniel usually walked around Melbourne on his own, outside the boundaries of the circuit, where it once was the closest he could get to the cars. It wasn’t his favourite place in the world, but Daniel liked to think that every year he made the walk, he’d get stronger.

He was always wrong.

In 2017, Max made the walk with him for the first time. Daniel didn’t think Max actually went willingly; Daniel sort of lingered around him after dinner and hinted that he was going for a walk, and Max just went along with it, like he did with most things Daniel made him do.

Walking around Melbourne with someone by his side gave Daniel more strength than he thought it would. 

“So are you from around here?” Max asked. Daniel didn’t blame him. It’d been quiet for a while.

“I’m from Perth, mate,” Daniel said. “Other side of the country.”

Max laughed. “Okay, stupid of me.”

“Nah, no one really bothers about Australian geography.”

“Did you come here to watch the race often when you were younger?”

“My dad brought me a couple times when I was a kid, but since I was thirteen I started coming every year,” Daniel said.

“Oh, cool,” Max replied. He didn’t pursue it, which was a relief. “So what’s nice to eat here?”

Daniel brought him to the burger restaurant he used to go to every Australian race weekend before he came into F1.

He hadn’t stepped in it since he left Australia for real, not even when he came back to race, because he’d expected the walls to suffocate him. But just as the colour had brought life into the walls all the previous times, the grey now made all the memories stagnant.

Daniel guessed there were two sides to every coin.

He listened to Max moan over how delicious the burger was, and he felt the familiar warmth that Australia used to bring him. 

Seeing Max happy just felt...surreal. Sure, Daniel sometimes just felt like Max was only a kid who worshipped Daniel, but Daniel did feel a certain sort of fondness for Max. He must’ve gotten so good at hiding his feelings for a reason. As deep as it might or might not have been, Daniel wanted to ease it.

Besides, it was nice to have someone with Max’s presence together with Daniel in Australia. Non-threatening, but not so much that he faded into the background. Keen to make conversation, but still careful when he spoke. Max was just the perfect companion. It was the first time, but Daniel was determined to have many more Australian Grands Prix with him. 

The streets of Melbourne were littered with Max and Daniel’s laughter as Daniel found the courage to revisit the places he’d previously avoided. And he thought he understood what Max meant when he said it was nice to have someone who welcomed him wherever they went. Max seemed to do the same for Daniel.

By the time Daniel got back to his room that night, he’d forgotten all the anxiety Melbourne had always brought him. Sure, Max had built eight walls around himself, four for the media and a further four for everyone else – but he seemed to open up to Daniel more and more as the days passed. And it wasn’t as if Daniel wasn’t guilty of the same.

He watched the circuit lights go out in preparation for the next day’s practice session. He sat at his window for a long time, listening to his race weekend playlist, thinking. Somehow, this time he felt a little more at home. 

\------

Daniel only found out about Lachlan from Michelle when they were planning her trip to Monaco for the race. 

Daniel had known Michael since they were in middle school, and Lachlan for a few years, so it was only natural that he phoned Michael right away.

“Danny, mate,” Michael greeted him, sounding cheerful yet seeming slightly...repressed. “Hey.”

“Michael,” Daniel smiled. Their friendship had already lasted half their lives and hearing Michael’s voice always made Daniel feel like he was a child again, at home. “How’re you doing? I heard from Michelle.”

“Yeah. I mean,” the line went silent. If it weren’t for the little sigh over the phone, Daniel would have mistaken it for a dropped call. “He was in a lot of pain. Towards the end.” 

Daniel tried not to let the memories of his own past permeate then. Michael had been one of the friends that had stayed over to console him when his soulmate died. It only made sense that Daniel did the same.

“He’s in a better place.”

He heard Michael clear his throat before adding a solitary, “Yes.”

Everyone said that, but Daniel knew what Michael was thinking. If their soulmates were in a better place, what about them? 

Daniel didn’t say that though.

“If there’s anything I can do, anything.”

“Nah, just you checking in means a lot, man.”

For one solitary second Daniel wished his job wasn’t so taxing and he could’ve just settled into one city like every other normal person, but it left just as quickly.

“I’ll see you at the barbecue when I come back, then?”

“For sure.”

“Take good care of yourself, please.” 

“Yeah, I will.” 

The line went dead soon after that, leaving Daniel to wonder.

\------

Michael walked the dirt road that led from the back patio to the field where they always held the barbecue. It felt weird, arriving alone. He straightened his back as the crowd around the barbecue pits came into view. These were his friends, and they were here for him. He had to take the words he taught and let them be here for him.

He saw Daniel spot him first, his smile hard to miss as he jogged up to greet Michael, giving him a one armed hug.

“You alright?” 

It was a simple question dressed in Daniel’s cheery disposition, but held so much meaning. This was his first time meeting his old friends since the funeral. Daniel was giving him a way out. He understood.

Michael nodded, making his way to the rest of the group. And just like that, everything fell into easy conversation, with rounds of beer and hearty food.

As the hours passed and the event died down, some of the people left, others huddled up in groups and chatted. Michael nursed a bottle in his hand, and he felt Daniel’s eyes on him.

Michael nodded at him and watched as Daniel left the group he had been talking to, taking up the seat next to Michael.

“You alright?” he repeated his question from earlier.

Michael smiled. “I am, but I’m not. Everything in this town feels stagnant right now.”

The last of the coals glowed in the pit next to his feet. He tried to remember the exact colour the embers would be, somewhere between the yellows and reds, not orange but with a character of its own. He wondered if Daniel still tried to do that as well. It had been so much longer for the man next to him.

“Come work with me then. It’s anything but stagnant,” Daniel suggested.

Michael laughed. “You’re crazy.”

“Seriously. My trainer’s leaving, and I’d rather it be you than some uppity prick,” Daniel spoke as if he wasn’t one of the most coveted drivers that could just have someone forced on him.

“I have no experience.” Michael said, but he knew that was a weak argument. 

“You train me in the off-season and break already. And I know your clients aren’t paying all that money for peanuts.” 

The stubborn and single minded focus from Daniel made Michael think maybe he wasn’t joking.

“Are you being serious right now?”

Daniel nodded. “Think it over, and take your time. You’re training me right now anyway. So you can just tell me at the end of the winter break. I need to give the team a name by then, that’s all.” 

Michael took a sip of his drink and sank back into his chair.

\-----  
2018  
\-----

Emptying out his apartment and his bags to send back to his childhood home whilst he prepared to move to a different continent when he was just shy of thirty seemed crazy to Michael. He had once loved traveling and the novelty of new places back in his college days, but the past few years had all been about his soulmate and Michael really didn’t know what to do with himself now.

Tightening the holders over his suitcase, he gave the place one last look. 

They had moved in here together straight out of college, and into a city apartment. With dreams as big as they come, Michael had joined a financial firm but he’d have an itch all week until the weekend would arrive so he could let out all that pent up energy playing football and staying late hours at the gym.

Lachlan had been the one to force him to move careers and into becoming a full time trainer. He had helped Michael write his resignation and his diploma application, sitting at that very same coffee table.

That was why he had to move. A year on and everything in the apartment still reminded Michael of him and how they’d never gotten to spend the rest of their lives together like the universe had promised.

He’d accepted the job offer Daniel had made. The training in Australia had come naturally but their break was over and the team had asked him to move closer to base in England. Michael figured he wouldn’t have to stay in England too much and suffer through the dreary weather, but it still made him think of the Australian sun.

Taking a deep breath, Michael left with his last bag. He was ready. Daniel needed him at his best and he was ready to prove that his friend hadn’t made a mistake.

\------

Michael knew Daniel was an easy guy to work with, and a good friend to be around, but there was always a nagging voice in the back of his head of what it would be like to coach him full time. 

It was only the beginning, but he was having fun building up Daniel’s profile from scratch, tweaking and adjusting what he knew would work, what Daniel already knew worked, and what they could make better. 

Michael didn’t think much of going back to Melbourne for the first race, but he could see a shift in Daniel’s general demeanour. There was a somber air to him, one Michael hadn’t really seen all that often, and he’d known Daniel since they were in middle school. Michael had seen Daniel race before, and this wasn’t all him.

He knew from training that Daniel worked infinitely better when he didn’t let the pressure get to him. But he also knew better than to assume that pressure was all it was. Seeing that it was only his first actual week in Formula 1, though, he had to assess before he said anything.

Come qualifying day, they did a light session training Daniel’s reflexes in the morning, and Michael saw the hunch in Daniel’s shoulders. 

“You alright, mate?” 

Daniel nodded but averted his eyes, “Yep. Australia is just a lot of press and what not.” 

“Well, it’s like every other race on your calendar, mate. Same points. You’ve got this.”

“I know I’ve got this. Now play me some good music please,” Daniel smiled at him before changing into his fireproofs and race suit, and unveiling his new helmet. “Wanted a bubblegum pink one. Dr. Marko blocked it though because it's ‘too girly’. Can you even fucking imagine?”

Michael raised his eyebrows in response. “Why bubblegum pink?” _When you can’t see it, _was left unspoken.

Daniel shrugged. “Bubblegum pink’s a nice colour. I remember bubblegum pink pretty well.”

Michael nodded, still unsettled by some of the micromanagement from the team.

*

They had a good time walking around the track at night with some of the other drivers. Michael could see Daniel was enjoying being the social butterfly to bring all the other drivers together. He smiled at his friend’s elevated mood but mainly stayed behind the pack with Daniel’s press officer.

Finishing the race just in reach of a podium didn’t help Daniel’s mood much, but the smile he donned in the paddock and in front of the cameras all weekend spoke nothing of the way that Michael had seen him wound up like a coil, despite his best efforts.

Michael admired his resilience to never let anyone see him looking stressed, but the long term effects of that could not be good. He would discuss it with Daniel once they got back to Europe.

\------

Bahrain was nothing but a weekend of heartbreak. 

They broke so many age-old records, but none of them positive. Max was completely silent as he watched the entire race next to Daniel. They never got to do this, watch an entire race live. Daniel thought that was something to laugh about.

At least, it was to Max. Everyone else didn’t find it too funny.

Daniel appreciated Max understanding that he was just trying. 

They skipped the big after-party, having nothing to celebrate, instead staying in Daniel’s room to have a little party for Pierre and his first F1 points. They had a room service feast and some card games, but at the end of the night Max was the only one left; he was usually always the only one left, since everyone else usually went off with their soulmates at some point of the night or another. 

Daniel watched him get a drink from Daniel’s minibar like this was his own room. He met Daniel’s gaze as he sat down by Daniel’s feet. Daniel gave him a smile, wondering if Max had cheered up enough from earlier. Max was young, and Daniel understood if the disappointment took longer to fade away than it did for him. 

“Dan,” Max said.

His voice was...determined, albeit a little skittish. 

“Yeah?” Daniel asked.

“You started competing in Europe when you were eighteen, right?”

Daniel wrinkled his brow, calculating. He barely thought of associating with that period of his life anymore. This whole year and a half with Max had been the perfect distraction. “Yeah, about right,” he eventually decided.

“Did you go to the F1 exhibition that year? In Monaco?”

“I don’t remember,” Daniel said. “Why?”

Max turned and met Daniel’s eyes again. They weren’t usually, but Max’s eyes looked the warmest grey under the light, keen and kind. Daniel wished he knew what colour they really were. 

Max took a deep breath, and said, “I met my soulmate at that exhibition.”

Maybe this was it. Max’s final wall falling.

Daniel was happy not just because of that, but also because Max _did _have someone who was destined for him. Who cherished him. Who always would. Max thoroughly deserved it – even if it wasn’t just Daniel anymore.

“You did, yeah?” Daniel asked, smiling. “Who is it?”

Max was suddenly silent. Daniel could almost hear the audible thump of Max’s wall falling back into place.

“Who is it, Max?” Daniel prodded.

“I think it might be you,” Max said.

Daniel felt like Max had picked up said wall and thrown it at him. 

Looking at Max suddenly gave Daniel an inexplicable chill, so Daniel averted his gaze, placing it on the rose tattoo on his hand instead. He ran his thumb over it, stretching it. 

It had been so long since Daniel had allowed himself to hope he could see colour again.

He hadn’t expected the feeling to hit him so hard. The rush of hope, though unfounded. The memory of those nights he told himself grey was also a colour.

“Why do you think it’s me?” Daniel finally brought himself to ask.

“Just a feeling?” Max shrugged. “I mean, it’s supposed to be like that, isn’t it? You know you’ve met them because you see colour, and you feel...different around them. Do you – you don’t feel it?”

“No, I’m – it’s not that,” Daniel rubbed his eyes. Daniel _didn’t _feel it, but. But it didn’t change the fact that he willed himself to, whenever he came close to finding someone to love again. “I’ve never thought about that. But I’m not your soulmate, Max.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re not mine.”

“I’m –” Max started, but didn’t continue. He just sat there. Daniel willed him to continue talking. Willed him to urge Daniel into talking about it. Because even though Daniel had never wanted to, he knew that if Max so much as asked, he would spill everything.

Daniel eventually stood up and went to the bathroom. He closed the door and stood in front of the mirror, hands on the edge of the sink, elbows locked. 

He examined his own eyes in the mirror, willing himself to see the brown he knew was in them. 

He blinked, but they were grey.

He’d never seen the red and yellow of the Red Bull logo on his shirt ever since he joined the team.

He blinked, but still he didn’t.

When he shut his eyes, all he could remember was the bread packaging that turned from green to grey. 

The navy blue dress she’d been wearing the last time Daniel had seen her, stepping into her car and going to school. The gold of her car as it disappeared down the street. The yellow of the emoji she sent him when he reminded her how easy grocery shopping was when they could see colour. The red of the packet of her favourite chips.

Daniel remembered every colour clearly in his mind. 

But when he opened his eyes, he could see not one of them.

Daniel hung his head. Holding his tears back hurt so much it felt like someone had taken a knife to his throat, but he tried his best not to bleed out. It wasn’t how he wanted to honour her memory after allowing himself to think of her for the first time in a year.

Part of him just wanted to go back outside and tell Max that he was joking, that Max did make him see colour, and then they could both laugh it off like they’d always done, and Daniel could allow himself to love again. Sometimes Daniel didn’t miss the colour so much as he missed having someone to love. Someone to try and make the happiest in the world. 

But he would rather live the rest of his life not having anyone to care for than to ever risk hurting Max and robbing him of the chance to meet his real soulmate. This was the closest Daniel had been to finding love again, but he wasn’t going to be selfish.

Daniel splashed some water on his face and wiped it dry with a towel. When he went back outside, Max was still in the same position, on the edge of Daniel’s bed with his arms hanging between his thighs. Daniel sat down next to him. 

“I see in black and white,” Daniel said.

Max swallowed audibly. He didn’t turn to Daniel. 

“I met her when we were thirteen,” Daniel continued, hoping he wouldn’t burst into embarrassing tears in the middle of a sentence. “We were together for a few years. It was great. Most people don’t think about getting married, but we did. I thought we’d get married before we turned eighteen.”

“And did you?” Max asked.

Daniel thought of the sapphire in her engagement ring, now a cold grey.

“She died,” Daniel said. “Car accident.”

Even saying those words felt like a punch in Daniel’s chest.

Max didn’t respond for a long time. Daniel silently willed him to, just so Daniel’s mind wouldn’t wander.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually said.

Daniel shrugged. “All I have to say is, cherish what you have now,” he said. “‘Cause if it turns back, the _moment_ it turns back – it’s something you’ll never forget. You don’t just lose the colour. You lose a part of yourself.”

Daniel wished someone had told him those exact words. He didn’t know if he would’ve listened, but he’d thought many times about what he would’ve done if he’d been given some sort of warning that he was going to lose her. 

He’d probably still lose himself, but just – not all of himself in a single second.

“Do you believe that there could be a second soulmate out there for you?” Max asked. “Maybe you could see in colour again.”

“Maybe,” Daniel said. He forced a smile on his face. “But I don’t know, kid. All I know is it’s not you.”

“I’m sorry about your – her,” Max said. He sounded like he was choked up. Daniel wasn’t sure if he was choked up about Daniel’s story or just about the circumstances.

“Don’t worry about it,” Daniel said. “I hope you figure out your soulmate soon.”

Max gave him the smallest smile. He didn’t seem to feel comfortable lingering in Daniel’s room, which Daniel understood. He watched as Max walked himself to the door, then held Daniel’s gaze in the gap until it fully closed.

Daniel buried his face in one of his pillows and screamed.

Words couldn't describe how much he wished that Max could make him see in colour right then. All Daniel could do was channel it into his pillow.

When the urge to cry had subsided, Daniel went to the room next door and knocked. 

Michael looked freshly showered when he opened the door, his buzzed hair damp and his towel hung over his shoulder. 

"Michael," was all Daniel brought himself to say, in a breathless whisper. 

Michael seemed to immediately be able to tell how utterly exhausted Daniel was. It was probably written all over Daniel's face. He stepped aside and gestured Daniel into the room. By the time Daniel had sat down in his armchair, Michael was right behind him with a can of beer.

“Just one, for today,” he said.

Daniel felt a sudden urge to hug him.

If he couldn’t find someone to love, maybe at least he could find someone to hold.

Instead, he just sipped at his beer, trying to savour it and not down it all in three seconds.

Michael sat in the armchair next to his, eyeing him warily. He smiled whenever Daniel turned to him. The low drone of the TV in the background, in a language Daniel didn’t understand, soon calmed Daniel so his pulse wasn’t a noticeable throb. Michael didn’t stop him when he got up to get a soda from the minibar to wash the beer down with.

“I must say you’re doing pretty well at your job so far,” Daniel said. 

“That’s until you get sick of me,” Michael replied.

It wasn’t really something Daniel was worried about.

\------

Michael had thought he had enjoyed a party or two in his time but they were nothing compared to the sheer insanity that followed Daniel’s win in China when the entire Red Bull team went nuts. He had attended one or two of these as Daniel’s friend but to be a part of the team, a part of this big machine, helping it move in his own way, however small, was a different feeling.

Christian had stopped by earlier, patting Daniel on the back. “Seems like the tough competition is working, isn’t it?” 

Michael didn’t like the patronising undertones in his words at all, and he watched Daniel momentarily stiffen. 

They were quick to move on though, Daniel’s win too grand and too precious to bother over Christian. The flashing lights, sweaty bodies surrounding them, and music loud and exactly to their taste meant the smile never left Michael’s face after that. Frankly it hadn’t left his face since Daniel had crossed the finish line. 

Daniel was in his element. He had already made Michael drink more alcohol than he could keep track of, and Daniel’s hand only stopped after midnight. 

They were at the bar when Daniel’s mood shifted once more. Michael followed to where his gaze was fixated, Michael finally understood. It all made sense. The mood swings, the stiffness. The discomfort he seemed to carry at the factory in Milton Keynes.

Daniel was watching Max Verstappen.

“You’re in love with your teammate?”

Daniel’s head whipped towards him so fast, Michael thought he might have whiplash before his eyes narrowed.

“Cheers, cunt.”

Michael lifted the glass he received in Daniel’s direction. He knew he shouldn’t have touched on the subject, but he wasn’t sober enough to have a filter.

“C’mon. Your favourite DJ is playing. You don’t want to miss his set.” 

He dragged his friend behind him to a spot closer to the music source. He’d make sure Daniel enjoyed himself tonight and work it off twice over in the morning.

\------

The only thing Daniel hated about being at the top was the feeling that everything could only go downhill. 

After Shanghai, Baku only served to prove that.

Max looked angry, even under his helmet and from fifty meters away as they took separate ways back to the paddocks. That was fucking fine. It wasn’t as if Daniel wasn’t equally fucking pissed. 

Christian stared at him from the pit wall as he passed. He was expressionless, though his lips pursed slightly when Daniel made eye contact. 

When Max arrived, Christian greeted him like a father welcoming his son after a bad day. Daniel couldn’t hear what Max was telling him, but all the hand-waving gave him an idea. 

He passed Michael as he ducked into his driver’s room and slammed the door. It opened again a moment later as Michael followed him inside with a six pack of Red Bull and, with his completely calm and collected voice, said, “Daniel.”

“I’m so fucking tired of being unwanted,” Daniel said.

“What do you mean?” Michael asked.

Daniel shook his head. “Forget it.”

“We can talk about it,” Michael suggested.

“No,” Daniel said.

Michael backed off, but Daniel knew he’d come back to it later. He wasn’t going to let himself be too on guard about that, though.

He hid in his room post-race for as long as he could, skipping all kinds of press whose questions he already knew. Michael went in and out a couple of times, but knew to do nothing more than give Daniel more Red Bull, his headphones, and some towels, and stay the fuck away.

It was only after everyone had returned to their hotels that Michael finally dragged Daniel out. He planted Daniel in his hotel room to take a shower, then dragged him downstairs for dinner at the hotel restaurant against his will. Daniel just wanted to sit in bed and fume. At least being angry reminded him that he hadn’t completely lost his fucking mind yet.

“If I give you an off-night tonight so you can drink however much you want of whatever you want, will you go out to the party with me?” Michael asked.

Well, when Michael put it that way, how could Daniel say no?

After all, Daniel knew all Michael wanted for him was the best.

And if that included alcohol and dancing, then Daniel was up for it.

The party was already in full swing by the time Daniel and Michael got there. The first thing Daniel saw when he entered was Max, sitting at a table with Pierre and Brendon, shoulders hunched over his drink. 

Michael left to get them some drinks, but Daniel’s vision had narrowed until Max was its only focus. Max didn’t seem happy, which...well, Daniel thought he deserved it. He didn’t speak to Pierre or Brendon, just sat there listening to their conversation. Daniel thought of approaching him, but decided against it, and instead just stood there seething with anger.

When Max got up from his chair, Daniel didn’t respond quickly enough to avert his gaze. Max saw him the moment he stood up, and held Daniel’s gaze for a few long moments before being the first to look away.

So he was running from a fight.

It was too bad Daniel was itching for one.

He caught up with Max near the walkway to the restrooms and confronted him about the crash. Their voices echoed so loudly in the narrow corridor that Daniel wondered how no one else heard them. But Max stood his ground, and Daniel wasn’t about to just give in so easily to this little piece of entitled shit. In fact, the way he was fucking behaving made Daniel want to punch him in the face.

Max could count himself lucky that Charles came and basically just told Daniel to back the fuck off. As Daniel stood back and looked at the both of them cowered against the wall across from his fist, he couldn’t help but sigh in resignation. 

“I’m just so fucking disappointed,” he said, running his hand through his hair. That was what it was – disappointment. Not just at the race, but at...everything. 

Maybe it was a bit of anger at not being able to love someone, maybe it was a bit of anger at Max for not being able to make Daniel see in colour. 

Daniel had channeled all his anger into the race, which was retrospectively not a very good idea. Michael would’ve been so disappointed in him if he’d known. 

Indeed, after accepting a truce with Max he turned around and saw Michael standing by their table, holding two drinks, his brow furrowed in a slight frown. Daniel frowned back at him. 

“Here, drink this,” Michael said, shoving a drink in Daniel’s hand as he reached the table.

Daniel couldn’t see what colour it was, but it was transparent. He downed it in three seconds and it didn’t burn his throat.

Michael stared at him, then offered him his own drink. Daniel took it without a word, deciding to cherish it this time round. 

Instead of going to get another drink for himself, Michael just sat across the table and watched Daniel. His gaze was intense, flashing under the lights of the dancefloor just beside them, in a colour Daniel couldn’t see. It occasionally flitted to Daniel’s hands as he lifted his drink to his mouth. Michael’s lips occasionally twitched, like he wanted to ask Daniel something. Daniel waited.

“So are you?” Michael asked, eventually.

“What?” 

“In love with your teammate?”

Daniel took a long sip of his – Michael’s – drink. 

“If you can get from that –” Daniel gestured at the narrow corridor leading to the restrooms. “To ‘you’re in love with him,’ then you must be either stupid or crazy.”

“You’re reacting,” Michael said calmly. “Don’t react to me. Respond.”

“Why does it matter so much to you?” Daniel asked.

Michael shrugged. “It seems to matter a lot to you. And if it affects you, then it affects my job.”

“Just your job, huh?” Daniel grinned. He raised his glass at Michael, even though Michael still didn’t have a drink of his own. “Cheers, cunt,” he said, then downed the remainder.

Michael just shook his head and went to collect two glasses of water.

Sometimes Daniel admired how Michael stood by his side even though he was a...mess.

He decided that maybe he _had_ reacted a little too much, so he joined Michael next to the water dispenser. “Come on, mate,” he said. “You promised me fun.”

Michael let Daniel drag him onto the dancefloor. As the deafening beat drowned out all of Daniel’s anger and regret, he thought he saw Michael finally smile.

\------

Monaco was a spectacle to behold. The week leading up to the Grand Prix was one long party, and the entire town was abuzz. The streets had been crawling with an inordinate amount of people. The rich and the elite of the world had flown in, and he could hear the drunk ballads from the street downstairs every night. Michael’s biggest inconvenience had to be that his favourite coffee place was packed to the rafters most mornings.

Monaco had started to feel a little like home. Had Michael realised earlier that he’d basically be living with Daniel all year round, he wouldn’t have rented the flat in England. He’d only used it once, when he had decided to start his degree and had to appear for the interview.

Daniel loved the Monaco Grand Prix; he always had. If anyone ever had to pick one race to win, most would name Monaco, and Daniel was no different, 

And when he put it on pole on the Saturday, after having to constantly hear about how his teammate was the only one carrying speed, and being subjected to questions about 2016 incessantly, no one but Michael saw the tears of relief gloss his eyes when they returned home that night. 

*

They were in Daniel’s room at the Red Bull hospitality on the day of the race.

“What if I fuck it up?” Daniel said suddenly, stopping in the middle of their warm up. “I know it wasn’t me last time, but what if _I_ fuck it up this year? I won’t be able to live that down.”

Daniel wasn’t the kind to self doubt. Introspection and self reflection? Sure. But Michael hadn’t seen him doubt his ability like this.

“You won’t fuck up, Dan.” 

“Yeah, but what if I do? I’ve been on the podium three years running. I don’t want to be on it if I’m not in top spot.”

“You’re on pole, Dan. You did that. Not once, but twice now. That’s something to say on a grid with multiple world champions in championship cars next to you. Last time was bad luck, but your team knows better now. They won’t let you down, and you won’t let yourself down. Okay?”

And then, just as the moment had come, it was gone when Daniel spoke again. “Let's just finish the warm up.”

Michael saw him visibly close up, so he had to try again. “You need to stop people getting in your head, seriously. You’re too grand for that. Stop. Living. For. Them,” he stressed each word, now holding Daniel’s forehead against his own, as if it would make the words stick better. “Stop being them. Now, breathe, and tell me you understand.” 

Michael dropped his hand from where he had held Daniel, putting distance between them once more.

Daniel looked at him and Michael held his gaze, willed him to see the belief Michael had in him be reflected back. He took his time before finally breathing out, “Okay. I won’t get it wrong.”

Michael nodded at him one last time, before letting him go to join the grid.

The race was nerve wracking to say the least. Michael’s nails took the brunt of it as he watched Daniel make his way through the laps. His heart dropped every time Daniel so much as cornered too hard. When he heard that Daniel had lost power, he really thought it was over. Picking Daniel up from that would be impossible, almost.

Every lap after that, he prayed to whatever deity was watching over them, and it must’ve listened. Because when Daniel got on the top step of the podium, it felt like nothing short of a miracle. Pride blossomed in his chest as he watched Daniel lift the trophy high over his head.

Michael only got to see Daniel when they were finally lining up for a team photo on the Red Bull deck later. He communicated with Daniel in the smiles they exchanged, and the strong handshake that was exchanged.There were too many people that wanted his attention for Michael to hog him just then.

And it truly felt like everyone was happy for Dan that day. 

No one had forgotten the cruelty of 2016. They probably still wouldn’t, but at least Daniel could put it to bed now. This was his redemption, cliche as the words sounded.

Michael made himself scarce when the engineers and pit crew jumped into the water after Daniel’s graceful faceplant into the deck pool. 

At the party later that evening, Michael finally settled in next to Daniel – who, at this point seemed to have consumed enough alcohol for the entire town of Monaco – and watched him flash a grin.

“Mikey, you can’t put a limit on me right now, even if you try. I am judge and executioner today. No jury.” 

Michael laughed at the slurred words, impressed at the coherence of his thoughts. He knew there was no way he could put a hamper on Daniel’s Monaco celebrations. 

“I won’t do that.”

Daniel slung his arm over Michael’s shoulder, smiling. “You’re too good to me, Michael. I wanted to leave the race this morning. Thanks for making me not leave.”

Michael smiled, checking to see who else was around them, and who might have heard Daniel. Everyone seemed busy and too drunk to care, so Michael eased up.

Daniel was on top of the world for that night. And yet the hunch in his shoulders, the slip of his smile every time he saw one of the team bosses, his words – they spoke of a different reality.

It had been long enough, and Michael decided to bring up the matter with Daniel at the next chance.

\------

Daniel watched Max lift his first winner’s trophy in 2018 in the comfort of his motorhome. The sea of what Daniel knew was the orange of Max’s home welcomed Max in the grandstand. He was the hero of Red Bull Racing.

Daniel was the zero.

He stepped out of his trailer only to see Michael on the way towards him, holding two cups of coffee. “Fancy a pick me up?” he asked with a smile. 

Daniel helped himself; Michael didn’t usually give concessions like this, and Daniel wasn’t going to pass. Besides, he knew Michael only wanted to cheer him up. 

And he really knew what he was doing, bringing Daniel out for pizza. Sure, Daniel still felt like there was a heavy rain cloud over him, but at least he had Michael next to him holding an umbrella.

“So what’s the special occasion?” Daniel asked as their large pizza was placed in front of them. It wasn’t even some random pizza joint. It was a posh restaurant they were at.

“There’s no special occasion,” Michael said. 

“You brought me to dinner like it’s some kinda date,” Daniel pointed out. “Like you’re trying to get into my pants, or something.”

Michael laughed his characteristic gentle laugh. “Only so I can make you work harder tomorrow.”

“No promises,” Daniel said. He poked at the egg in the center of the pizza; the yolk oozed out over the top. “Hmm. Never seen egg pizza before.”

“Carbonara pizza. And you call yourself part Italian.” 

“I don’t think carbonara pizza is really Italian.”

“It has two Italian foods in its name,” Michael said.

“Your last name is Italiano, does that mean you’re Italian?’” Daniel shot back.

“You think you’re funny,” Michael said. It made Daniel laugh for the first time that day.

The race and everything surrounding it wore Daniel out, so he finished his portion in no time. He sat watching Michael slowly devour his. 

“So, party later?” Michael asked.

Daniel wasn’t really up for it, but. “If you mean ‘free alcohol’, then sure.”

The party was nearby, which made Daniel think that Michael had very carefully orchestrated the whole evening. Daniel spotted Max’s silly cap the moment he stepped inside, sticking out in its characteristic shade of grey that Daniel had long learned to interpret as orange. He tried to swerve away from it but found himself drifting towards Max, anyway, tapping him on the shoulder as he approached.

“Hey, congratulations,” he said.

“Daniel, thanks,” Max smiled the warmest smile. He seemed happy. They’d never actually talked about Bahrain and Baku but things seemed to be back to normal, so Daniel was going to take it. 

“Sorry I couldn’t help the team,” Daniel said, in that moment his subconscious thoughts bubbling to the surface – Max was the team now. Max was the leader, whether he or Daniel liked it or not, in Daniel’s mind.

Daniel sighed internally.

“Don’t worry about it,” Max said. “Where’ve you been?”

“I went for dinner with Michael.”

“Oh, cool.”

They stood quietly for a while, neither knowing what to say.

Daniel felt a heavy cloak of sadness suddenly descend on him, his heart growing heavy.

“So I’ll –” Daniel gestured in the general direction of Michael.

“Yeah, yeah,” Max smiled again. He clapped Daniel on the shoulder. “See you around.”

Daniel turned around and saw Charles watching them, a sort of...longing in his eyes. His gaze had been fixed on Max, but darted to Daniel when Daniel turned. 

Daniel gave him a smile and a wave. He was a quiet boy, Charles. Could do with some attention. He gave Daniel the tiniest, shyest wave.

Michael was at the bar, drink ready for Daniel. “Why’re you so good to me today?” Daniel asked him.

“I’m good to you every day,” Michael said. 

“Yeah, fuck off,” was Daniel’s reply. He took his drink and sat down with his back to the counter, leaning on it. He’d have liked to say it was so he could watch the room, but.

All he saw was Max, flitting around, being his number one self. 

Daniel knew it wasn’t completely Max’s fault that he felt like this. So...unwanted, unprioritized. Max was a driver just like Daniel was. He was only trying his best. He wanted to win, he _could _win, and he had many more years of winning to come. 

Daniel sometimes just wished that they saw all that in him, too. 

He downed drink after drink, each one reminding him of one way he was inadequate.

“Always being up and down is no fun, is it?”

Daniel turned to Michael. He had a bottle of water in his hand, waiting for an answer from Daniel.

“It’s part of the sport,” Daniel said.

“Is it?” Michael asked. “The way you’re feeling right now?”

“You don’t know a fuck about what I’m feeling right now,” Daniel snapped. He asked for another shot and downed it. The heat he felt as it slid down his throat also burned the rest of Daniel’s social filter. “Fuck.”

“We should go,” Michael said. His voice was calm and firm in Daniel’s ear as he pried the shot glass out of Daniel’s hand, though Daniel resisted. “Daniel. Dan.”

Daniel reached over the bar counter and grabbed the first bottle of alcohol he could find, which was a bottle of whisky that was half empty. He tucked it under his arm. “Fine. Let’s go.”

“You can’t take that,” Michael said, the voice of reason that he always was.

It was too bad Daniel wasn’t in the mood to listen. “I do whatever the fuck I want,” he muttered.

Michael walked behind Daniel instead of beside him as they made the journey back to the hotel, like he didn’t want to encroach on Daniel’s personal space but needed to stop him from tipping over. He didn’t say a word when hot tears started to blur Daniel’s eyes and he had to stop because he couldn’t see where he was walking. He just took Daniel’s shoulders, pulled Daniel’s cap over his face, and guided Daniel to his room. 

“Let go of the bottle, Daniel,” he said as Daniel collapsed into the armchair.

Daniel responded by taking the cap off and downing three full gulps of whisky before he choked on the fourth and spat it out on the carpet. He avoided Michael’s gaze, knowing it would just be full of disappointment. And Daniel had had enough of that.

Michael walked away, and Daniel braced himself for the sound of the door slamming, but instead Michael returned with a tall glass of water. He gently removed the bottle of whisky from Daniel’s hand and replaced it with the glass. 

Daniel swallowed the rest of his tears together with the water.

“What’s our problem?” Michael asked.

Daniel liked that it was ‘our problem’, and not ‘your problem’.

He closed his eyes. He sighed, but the nagging in his chest remained. 

“The lows are too low,” he said. “I can’t take them.”

“Do the highs make up for it?” Michael asked. “In Monaco?”

Daniel sighed again. Monaco was – it was nothing but just another high before a fall. Just another low disguised as a high to ambush Daniel when he was least prepared.

“Monaco was immediately followed by two weekends of me sniffing Max’s tail. And then today.”

“So our problem is Max.”

“Our problem is not Max,” Daniel said. “It’s not Max. Max has nothing to do with this.”

“Nothing at all?” Michael asked. “So Baku was nothing. The fact that you almost punched him.”

Daniel raised his glass of water at the air in front of him. “Well done Baku.”

“Daniel,” Michael said. “Don’t stray.”

“It’s not so simple,” Daniel popped his cap off and ran his hand through his hair. “Max is – he’s childish and I know the way he blows up isn’t his fault with how...with his dad and everything, but. God, I do like that kid too much for my own good.”

“You don’t have to beat yourself up for falling behind him, you know?”

“I know, it’s just that – it feels like I’m in a straightjacket, and it’s getting tighter every race weekend. I have no control. And I could have, but it’s not being given to me. And all these problems, they’re coming up – the timing is just so screwed up, ‘cause I have to keep telling myself I don’t feel this way, that I’m not mad at him and I don’t feel inadequate just because of what happened in Bahrain.”

“We’ve never talked about Bahrain,” Michael pointed out.

Daniel sighed. That was true. Daniel had just gone to Michael’s room all depressed without any explanation. He put the glass down on the table and gestured at the whisky Michael was holding. “Can I have some of that?”

“Only if you’ll talk.”

“It’s the only way I’ll fucking talk.”

Michael handed him the whisky and he downed it like liquid courage. 

Bahrain. God. Daniel didn’t even know where to fucking start.

“Did he say something to you?” Michael urged.

“I think he’s in love with me,” Daniel whispered. “Or – he was.”

Silence from Michael for a long time, then, “What?”

“He thought that we were soulmates,” Daniel said. That night was still clear in his mind, although he’d tried his best to forget it. “He said he felt different around me. And I’m – Michael, it’s been over ten years. You know I never let myself think about it.”

Michael gulped loudly. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. I know...Lachlan’s still fresh.”

Michael shook his head. “No, yeah. Then what happened?”

“I told him. About her,” Daniel sighed. “You know, it’s just...who doesn’t want to see colour again? I do. I’ve been looking for it, even if I didn’t realise I was. I don’t even – no one even knows if we can find it a second time. But I miss the feeling of loving someone. Believe me, I wanted Max to make me see in colour. I love the kid. But I guess not in the way that was intended.”

“So now you’re angry with him for bringing it up.”

Daniel leaned forward and placed the whisky bottle on the floor so he could bury his head in his hands and Michael wouldn’t see that he was crying like a baby. “Fuck, Michael. I don’t want to be. But I am. Because it hurts, and I’ve forgotten what it feels like but now I’m just angry at him for not being able to make me see in colour because he gave me a little hope for something no one even knows exists, and he doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t. It’s not his fault. He makes _someone _see in colour, and they’re gonna have the best life. We’re just going to have to accept that it isn’t me.”

Silence for a long time as Daniel tried his hardest to keep his sobs quiet.

“I guess part of me is also angry with myself,” Daniel brought himself to continue. “That I’m not...good enough to be his soulmate. And I can’t make myself be.”

“You know that’s not up to you, or him,” Michael said softly.

“I know, just,” Daniel shrugged.

“I see how it’s bad timing now,” Michael said. “That he made you think about soulmates and all of this, and then shit starts to happen with the team this season that tears you two further apart.”

“Yeah. But I know – I’m trying to be rational here. The two aren’t linked.”

“I know, Dan. It’s hard.”

“He’s still a good friend. I don’t want him out of my life,” Daniel said. “Just to be clear. I care for him a lot. I don’t want to stop doing that.”

“I know,” Michael said again. His hand was warm on Daniel’s bicep. “It’s two separate situations that happened at the same time.”

“Thanks,” Daniel whispered. If he spoke any more, any louder, his voice would give him away.

“What you said earlier, about the straightjacket,” Michael said.

“Yeah.”

“Did you consider the offers? From McLaren and Renault?”

“Talked to mom and dad about it. Then I was gonna talk to you.”

“So it’s in the works, then?” Michael asked. “That’s good.”

“It’s just that I keep wanting to run away, and it’s not me. I’ve never been a runner.”

“But sometimes running brings you to a better place.”

Daniel smiled. “That’s what my dad said.”

Michael gave Daniel’s shoulder a soft squeeze. “You must be tired. Sleep on it and we can talk when you’re ready.”

Daniel nodded. “Michael, it’s just – if I leave, I don’t want you to think that it’s because I’m running from Max.”

“I know that,” Michael smiled. He always looked so kind when he smiled. Or even when he wasn’t. “You’re running for yourself.”

“And you’re coming with me.”

“Always will, buddy.”

Daniel smiled back at him. Michael was just so...rational. And kind. He was Daniel’s rock.

“It’d be nice, don’t you think?” Daniel asked. “If it was possible we had a second chance to see in colour.”

Michael’s smile grew, but Daniel saw the sadness hidden in his eyes as he held Daniel’s gaze. “It sure would,” he whispered.

Michael took the empty whisky bottle with him as he left, and washed the glass for Daniel in the process. As he closed the room door behind him, Daniel felt a strange sense of quiet.

Like the room had suddenly settled, but. At the same time, it was missing something.

Daniel stood under the hot shower until he couldn’t feel his skin and everything the past few months had left on it.

\------

There was just something about the air in LA that always made Daniel feel so refreshed. 

That summer was no different – okay, it was a _little_ different, but only because that year had been such shit that the air just seemed clearer when Daniel was away from his race car. 

Daniel could tell that Michael would very much rather be home in Australia, having been away for the whole year, but still he went with Daniel, and trained with him every morning in the back garden. It was a nice change from all the hustle and bustle of Monaco. 

One thing Daniel knew they both missed about Australia was the hiking and being away from the city. 

So he went with Michael on the Sam Merrill trail up Echo Mountain one sunny morning. It was pretty crowded, but Michael seemed at ease, the gentle smile permanently plastered on his face as he spoke to Daniel about everything except their jobs. It was just as well. Daniel had spent the past two or three months thinking about his job. He was nearly done with it.

After more than an hour of walking they found a pavilion near the top and stopped to take a break. Daniel retrieved two bottles of water from his backpack and handed one to Daniel.

The view from the pavilion was pretty spectacular. Mountains on either side framed the view of Pasadena below them and LA beyond it. Daniel climbed over the short wall at the edge and hung his legs over it; it was a precarious drop to the bottom, but Daniel decided to risk it.

The next thing he knew, Michael was scrambling over the low wall to sit next to Daniel. He hit his heels on the brick and chunks of soil flew down below, bouncing off the steep slope.

“It’s nice up here,” Michael noted.

Daniel smiled. There was a light breeze in the air, blowing gently on their sweaty faces. The scent of nature was...soothing. And Michael looked at peace, which was all Daniel could give him, after the past seven months of chaos.

Daniel was glad that he had a clear mind now. Things were becoming somewhat normal with Max again, which was good, because Daniel cherished the kid. And it contributed to Daniel feeling better, knowing that he could still separate his personal life from racing. After all the stress-drinking and insomnia of the last few months, this was more welcome than any other summer break.

Michael seemed as in awe of the view as Daniel was, in all the shades of grey, more shades at once than Daniel had ever seen. 

“Michael,” Daniel said.

Michael turned from the view to Daniel, his eyes bright. “Yeah?” he asked.

“I’ve been thinking,” Daniel said. “About everything.”

“What’d you come up with?”

Daniel turned back to the view laid out in front of them. He wished it was anything but grey, but he was just going to have to accept it. 

Suddenly he was afraid to say the words, because once he said them, it’d be real. 

But Michael was looking at him so earnestly.

“I’m going to start running,” Daniel said. 

Michael’s smile grew. 

“Do you know where to?" he asked. 

“To somewhere better," Daniel said. 

“Are you inspired?” Michael pointed at the sign hanging above the pavilion. “Is it because we're at...Inspiration Point?”

“Fuck off, Michael,” Daniel laughed. It felt like his chest was opening up for the first time in months. “I'm not taking you with me to Renault.”

“Fat hope. You can't live without me.”

Daniel really didn't think he could. Michael was as steady as the brick wall Daniel was sitting on, stopping him from falling to his death down Echo Mountain. 

The sun rose high in the sky, its heat a comfort against Daniel's skin. Pasadena glowed under their feet.

“How do you feel?” Michael asked. The wind carried his voice towards Daniel, though he was looking out at the view again. 

Daniel closed his eyes. He listened to the rustling of the trees; the birds chirping in the distance; the rustling of the dirt road as other hikers made their way up the trail behind them. 

“Free,” he said. 

\------

The US Grand Prix meant they had to do the transatlantic flyover once again that year. Michael was only in his first year and he tried to imagine how people like Kimi and Alonso kept at it over the years. Hell, Daniel had been doing it for so long now, he could be one of the oldies. 

But that wasn’t to say he didn’t love it. They were only waiting to board the flight, but Daniel was brimming with excitement.

“We’re gonna go to that steakhouse I told you about, finally,” he looked at his phone and then back up to Michael. “Maybe I’ll make it like a thing with the other drivers. Lewis probably won’t be there when we get in. I could ask Hartley to come. Carlos probably isn’t my biggest fan right now, but...”

Michael sensed Daniel was dancing around it, if only subconsciously. “Do you want to invite Max?”

Daniel’s face softened. He contemplated for a minute before perking up again. “You know what? Yes. I want to invite Max. Hell, I’d enjoy it if it were just you, me, Max and Hartley. I’ve gone there with him every year.” 

“Well, go on then.” Michael gestured at the phone in Daniel’s hand.

Safe to say it ended up being more than just Daniel, Max, Hartley and him as they filled up one entire section of the restaurant. They weren’t as well known in these parts, and the further away they were from the track, the more they blended in without anyone recognising them. The drivers loved it.

Daniel had hugged Max for a solid minute when he’d come in, knocking the air out of the Dutchman. It amused Michael, but they both seemed to finally breathe around each other. 

There were a plethora of F1 and F2 drivers and staff from the different teams at the table. Michael recognised a few of them. Their voices created a cacophony, and Michael could only be thankful that he was seated between Brendon and Charles Leclerc. They were very much on his wavelength.

He watched the lively storytelling and jokes from the end where Daniel and Max held their part of the table captivated. Daniel would look at Michael and grin ever so often. It always put him at ease, when he could rely on the familiarity and sense of home Daniel offered. 

“Hey, congrats on the Ferrari drive for next year,” Michael said to Charles.

Charles seemed taken aback when Michael spoke to him, having caught him in his reverie. “Thanks. I’m really hoping to impress, you know?” 

“You’re more than capable. I’ve seen you drive around,” Michael offered. He liked this kid.

“Renault for you then?” Charles asked him.

“I go where the wind takes me,” Michael nodded in Daniel’s direction, making Charles smile.

“Wind is too mild for them,” he referred to the Red Bull duo. “They’re more on speed with a tornado.”

They both grinned at each other before turning their attention back to Max and Daniel. Michael was sure anyone that saw them could read the fondness in both their eyes.

This party really had been worth it, too.Michael was enjoying himself in the company and Daniel was thriving as the center of attention. The food was delicious; Michael’s American steak with a crispy fried egg on top was absolutely divine, and he finally understood Daniel’s obsession with the place.

*

Daniel had a video shoot the next day for the Red Bull channel at the local high school. 

“Dan, I’m really not sure why you need me there?” Michael had gotten a memo from the team that clearly said only Daniel and Max were needed for the shoot. He had planned on tackling some of the schoolwork that lay neglected in his university email.

“Because.”

“Use your words,” he said, because Daniel was acting like a spoiled child.

“You just have to. I could pull a muscle or something.”

Michael raised an eyebrow at that. There was some bickering from Daniel and reasonable arguments on his own side, but of course Daniel won, and of course Michael went along.

It was only when they got to the dressing room that Michael got it.

They were going to play American football and Daniel knew he loved the sport.

His grin stayed in place for the next two hours as the drivers wrapped up their shoot, freeing them up to play with some of the boys from the team. Max and Daniel tried to join, and though Max was built like an athlete more so than most of the drivers, he really had no chance with contact sports. Michael saw Daniel making fun of Max, and he only stopped when Michael decided to tackle him to the ground. Then it was Max’s turn to laugh. 

“Et tu, Brute?” Daniel feigned injury as he got off the ground.

Michael couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled out of him. It probably had less to do with the joke and more with the elation he felt at the general calm and happiness that surrounded them. “Quit with the overdramatics.”

American football really was his thing. It involved a ball, it involved running and tackling, and it reminded Michael of his days playing rough Australian style football back home.

Michael grinned at Daniel when they were finally headed back to the hotel. He could stress about writing his assignment later. “Thanks for dragging me here.”

“I knew you’d love it.”

This Grand Prix really was turning out to be one of his favourites.

\------

Michael scooped the last of the shakshouka onto his plate before returning to their table, a spring in his step. They were in Abu Dhabi. The final few days of the season. He didn’t know he’d miss Australia as much as he did. 

But it was a chance to regroup, meet his family, and celebrate Christmas. And of course, train with Daniel. 

Back home in Perth, they practically lived next door with how close their houses were, and when Michael wasn’t at his place to train, Daniel was at theirs urging him to try whatever crazy idea he’d come up with that day. The mere thought of it made him smile. 

“You’re looking awfully chuffed. What’s up?” Daniel asked as Michael rejoined the table, taking the seat next to him.

“Australia. Home.”

“Pfft, rookie. I’m just waiting for the team lunch. Helmut’s footing the bill of a lifetime.”

Michael laughed as Daniel and Max started deciding their order, all while eating breakfast.

“I’m gonna have two cheeseburgers,” Max said.

“Two? That’s weak. I’m having three burgers and a milkshake,” Daniel was just egging Max on now.

Michael and Max’s trainer, Jack, exchanged knowing looks. All this talk but they knew both drivers would be knocked out after half a portion of whatever they ended up getting.

“Maxy, will you miss us when we leave?” Daniel asked the young driver.

“I mean, of course I will. Won't you?” Max was pouting a little.

“Nah. I’m not a weak punk,” Daniel replied, grinning the entire time.

Max’s face fell, and Michael elbowed Daniel in the side, making him wince.

“He’s saying that now, but he'll be crying about missing you come winter testing.”

Max perked up once more and Michael couldn’t help but think of him as a puppy. A murderous puppy on the track, but a puppy nonetheless. 

Michael turned to the side when he felt eyes on them. Charles, the new Ferrari driver, in his Sauber outfit for one last time, averted his gaze quickly. This wasn’t the first time Michael had caught Charles looking at them – at Max – wistfully. 

Strange.

\------

Christmas was always a busy affair at the Italiano residence with his siblings all coming back home with their partners and kids for the holiday. Michael went alone of course, but thank god for Christmas traditions. 

When they all made their way down to the beach to meet the rest of their extended family and friends, and he saw Daniel there along with a few of their other friends, he actually sighed in relief.

“Merry Christmas, Michael.” Daniel spoke, but Michael was busy staring at the most awful Christmas patterned shorts ever.

“Merry Christmas. Did you have to go through the local art school’s trash bins for those?”

Daniel fell forward in laughter, one of their friends, Marcus, joining in. “Funny you say that. I got you a pair as well.” 

Michael looked down at his very respectable outfit of khaki shorts and white shirt (according to the helpful labels on the inside for the fashion forward greyscale folks) with flip flops before looking back up. “That’s so nice of you Dan.”

“We bet that if you commented on his outfit – which you did – you’d have to wear them too,” Marcus contributed.

“It’s crazy how I don’t remember this bet being placed,” Michael scratched his chin. But he was already smiling wide. 

This is what he needed. He needed something to see besides the three happy families he’d been cooped up with for the past few days because as much as he loved his parents and his siblings and their families, being around them constantly for the past week had only served to remind him of what he would never have again.

He changed into the stupid shorts anyway because who cared. It was Christmas, and these were the people that made him happy. Anything to make them happy in return was a small price.

They threw a big party for New Year’s, and Michael got too drunk to see the clock strike twelve, but the hangover he woke up with ensured he remembered that he had, in fact, celebrated.

*

For the off season winter training, they moved to Daniel’s farmhouse. It wasn’t really training here.

It was Daniel and Michael running up the old hill road to see who had the fastest time. It was the two of them with their friends on dirt bikes, seeing who could ride and maintain their balance the longest while going the fastest. It was doing structured workouts and training in any and every part of the farm, only to leave so they could help Grace with the garlic in her vegetable patch. It was running down the shoreline just after sunrise, chasing the birds, the early morning runners too serious to perturb them, even if they recognised Daniel. It was playing skip rope, hopscotch, and hula hoops with his and Daniel’s nieces and nephews some odd morning. Well, the last one was a bit of a stretch but, that really was the gist of it.

Monaco had become home to Michael over the past year, but it had nothing on Perth.

They did pilates and weights most mornings, and then just let the rest of the day take its course. Some of their childhood friends that also lived in the area tagged along for most of it. 

Michael and Daniel had always been friends, but he had never thought out of their group that they would end up having as close a relationship as they did now. Michael was quiet, and Daniel was loud, but found that their middle ground was big, and surprisingly solid. 

When they moved around each other now, it felt like clockwork. Smooth and in tandem with each other. Sure, it was his job, but the friendship aspect of it all had been too significant to ignore with how their year had progressed. 

Michael finally felt like he’d found his place in life.

*

“They're here!” Daniel shouted excitedly in his doorway before rushing back out one day, leaving Michael confused. He followed his friend down the stairs and out into the front yard, seeing three new off road buggies parked in the driveway of the farmhouse.

Daniel was flying back into the house once more, leaving Michael alone to inspect the suspension on one of the buggies.

“Dan? Why do you need three new buggies?” he watched his friend tape a Bluetooth speaker to the little dashboard of the buggy and shove keys for another into Michael’s hand before jumping in.

“These two are for us, and that one is Marcus’s,” he pointed at the third one that looked a slightly different shade of grey to theirs. “Can you be quick, mate? We’re testing these out.”

Michael surveyed the buggies once more before jumping into his own, following Daniel’s lead to the back of the house and over the dirt road. And in the summer heat, with the wind blowing through his hair, and country music playing with Daniel’s mostly off-key singing, Michael felt happy.

They ended up in some open pastures beyond the main farm. Michael knew the cows were usually brought out here to graze. Daniel stopped and got out, sitting on the hood of his new buggy.

The music had stopped somewhere along the way.

“I used to come out here with her. Thought I was the biggest romantic when I packed us a picnic basket with egg sandwiches and soda,” Daniel smiled as he recounted the fond memory. “Mum even packed me a red checkered blanket to lay down. I got red roses from our old neighbour’s lawn.” 

Michael tried to envision the grey patch of land sprawling in front of him in colour; lush green grass growing wild, with trees reaching up and blocking the glare of the golden sun overhead, strong against a blue sky. That was probably where Daniel sat down with his soulmate. A young Daniel with his unruly brown curls, tanned skin and colourful ‘RAP GOD’ shirt.

“I didn’t tell you guys. Thought you’d make fun of me,” Daniel smiled and shook his head. “We were so dumb.”

“I know she’s proud of you. And the man you’ve become.”

Daniel turned to look at him, an intensity to his gaze Michael wasn’t used to. 

“Yeah, I know. I wouldn’t have lasted if she wasn’t watching over me. You’ve got Lachlan watching too, you know?”

Michael nodded. “Oh, I know. I’d be just as lost.”

They stared ahead for a while, at the open field.

“I’m not looking forward to the opening race at all.”

“Really? I thought you’d be itching to get back in a car.”

“I am, it’s just. The Australian Grand Prix just always reminds me of her because we used to watch it together. And what with my shitty luck there. Like, all week long I just constantly feel like I’m sinking inside.”

Michael remembered how off he had been last year, but he had chalked it up to the team problems and Max.

This made more sense.

“Forget luck. One day, you’ll be beyond it all, winning your first race of the season there and taking the driver championship and that’ll show your shitty luck.”

“World champion in my current car is a bit of a stretch, mate.” Daniel squinted at him in the sun.

“This year, next year. In five years? It’ll happen. I just know it. And I’ll give you my share of ‘I told you so’s when it happens.” Michael needed Daniel to not lose faith.

They stayed there until late afternoon, in each other’s company, revelling in silent companionship. Daniel broke out the music again some time later, but it was mellow tunes and softer voices, befitting the solemn mood.

On their way back, they took a different route. The peace of riding the buggies only lasted so long until Daniel accelerated too much and braked too hard, getting himself thrown off his new ride.

“Are you okay?” Michael asked, but he was laughing as he made his way to his fallen friend.

“Yeah, it’s only asshole friends like you laughing that hurt,” Daniel was cradling his left elbow.

“Serves you right for treating it like your F1 car. You know you’re an adrenaline junkie, right?”

Daniel’s face morphed into a half smile, but he gripped at the hand Michael offered, standing up in one go.

“Would be weird if I wasn’t one, mate.”

And that’s how Michael knew they were okay. 

\-----  
2019  
\-----

A year out from his start in Formula 1, Michael entered the paddock with a completely different team, the only constant being Daniel. Of course that was enough for Michael, and so was the spring in Daniel’s step of late.

Everyone wanted a piece of Daniel at Albert Park. Whether it was to ask about his new team, about how excited he was to race the Australian grand prix _again_, goad him over his less competitive car, or question his history at the track. Daniel was a trooper when it came to dealing with the press and fans, but Michael felt offended on his behalf. 

His new press officer Aurelie was a champion, though. Any time she saw the interviewer get too cheeky, she’d pass them the dirtiest look ever, all while maintaining her graceful smile. Michael was a fan so far.

“Enchanté, Michael.” Daniel said upon entering his room.

Michael did all he could to not roll his eyes. Daniel had been throwing the French word phrase around for the past three months, and it was a shame that Michael had to be on the receiving end more than anyone else given that they basically lived in each other’s pocket.

“What’s up?”

“Who are you texting? One of the boys in your DMs getting frisky?” 

Michael looked up from his screen where he’d been texting his mother. “I like the yellow on you, Dan. Really, it brings out the shit-eating grin on your face a lot more.” 

“As if you can see yellow.” 

Daniel carried a helmet bag under his arm, and looked around the room. He could’ve sat down anywhere in the area, but of course he chose the foot end of the sofa Michael was lying in, making him move his feet. Michael didn’t really mind; he actually loved it. It was just fun to act irritated. 

Daniel fiddled with the zipper on his helmet bag for a while before finally pulling the helmet out.

Michael put down his phone and sat up, joining Daniel in admiring the helmet. It was all light greys; he knew one of them was a pink, but the other two were too close in shade for him to tell apart.

“Told the designer to go all out. Make it like an ice cream cone,” Daniel was grinning now. He seemed to be shining from within.

Michael ran his fingers over the smooth surface. It looked different to anything Daniel had ever worn. It was as unique as Daniel.

“Check this out,” Daniel flipped the helmet over so Michael could read the words on it.

‘STOP BEING THEM’ in two fonts spread over what he knew was the pink in the helmet. Michael’s heart felt like it was suddenly two sizes too big. 

Those were the words Michael and Daniel had repeated like a mantra before every race over the past year. It was their words. And Daniel wanted to carry them with him everytime he raced. 

“I should sue you for copyright,” Michael said.

“Too late. They accepted my patent for it.” 

“Intellectual theft doesn’t suit you, Daniel Joseph.”

Daniel just flicked his shin twice, and it hurt like a bitch. Michael pushed at Daniel’s hip with his feet until Daniel slid off the sofa, his butt planting on the carpeted floor. Daniel didn’t look up once from his phone during the entire process. Hypocrite.

“I cut your checks Italiano. You’d do good to remember that.”

Michael cackled at Daniel’s words. “Cyril would kill you if he heard that now.”

“Oh god, he really would. I really did convince him like your paychecks were my dowry.”

*

Daniel’s racing that weekend ending after only twenty eight laps was less than ideal. It had been a standard move, Daniel trying to go down the inside of Checo and spinning on the grass.

Michael mentally prepared himself for whenever Daniel would come back to the garage, and when Daniel came in and shrugged at him from across the room, Michael finally breathed in relief. 

He was shocked at how much his own feelings were now tied to Daniel’s, and he tried to put it away for now, handing Daniel a bottle of water.

He listened to the immediate debrief Daniel had with his new engineers and Cyril before going back out to the press pen.

When they met in the driver’s room later, Daniel collapsed onto his bed.

“How are you feeling?” Michael asked.

“Surprisingly okay. Like, I’m gutted about the race, but at least my brain isn’t whirring a thousand miles an hour trying to pick at my own team’s intentions, you know?”

“I know what you mean.” Michael understood. Daniel didn’t look like he wanted to pull his hair out, and he’d seen him close to that too often at Red Bull. Even when he was on the podium. 

Michael preferred this a hundred times over what Daniel looked like this time around last year.

“You know how I told you this track makes me feel sad and empty? It doesn’t feel like that right now.”

That, however, did catch Michael by surprise. 

“That’s great, Dan! I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks man. It means a lot.”

“I’m so happy for you, we’re going out on the town.”

Daniel perked up at that. Their friends had come up for the race, and it couldn’t hurt to go out for some dinner and drinks.

“Yes, please!” Daniel sounded like an excited child.

“No drinking though. We’re just getting back into rhythm.” Michael added quickly. He felt too lenient at times, and he was going to put his foot down.

“Whatever you say, master Italiano,” Daniel said. 

Michael trusted him to go along with it, anyway.

\------

The day before they flew to Shanghai, Daniel woke up to Michael hurling chunks into the toilet. 

“What the fuck?” Daniel asked, standing at the bathroom door running his hand through his bed head. 

Michael opened his mouth to answer, but only managed to empty more of his gut into the toilet before anything else could come out of it. Daniel handed him a towel.

“Think I ate some undercooked eggs or whatever,” Michael said as he wiped his mouth. His voice was already hoarse, so Daniel wondered how long he’d been puking.

“Weak,” Daniel remarked. “I eat undercooked eggs for breakfast every day.”

“I make breakfast every day,” Michael pointed out.

“Exactly.”

Michael rolled his eyes, even though he did manage to crack a smile. “Dickhead,” he said.

“Do you have a fever?” Daniel asked, placing the inside of his forearm on Michael’s head. “Fuck. You’re burning up. I’ll go out for some medicine.”

“I’ll just rest and I’ll be okay,” Michael said, but Daniel was already halfway out the door.

When he came back Michael had migrated to the couch, a lined wastebasket on the ground next to him as he hugged a bowl of ice chips. His lips were pale and his eyes half-closed, though they opened a little more when Daniel stopped in front of him.

Michael didn’t offer any resistance when Daniel handed him the pills and a glass of water, though he looked like he was going to puke again when he was swallowing. 

Daniel trained alone that day, feeling weird that he was the perkier one between them two for once. Michael did nothing except sleep, munch on ice chips, and vomit water. His fever had subsided a little by the time Daniel brought him back into the bedroom, so that was a relief.

So China was going to be a solo race for Daniel. He guessed he was fine with that. Michael did have off days he was entitled to, after all. Especially when he was sick. He did argue with Daniel for a straight fifteen minutes about not needing a nanny to take care of him, so Daniel thought maybe he wasn’t that sick after all if he could move that mouth so quick.

*

Race weekend just felt strange without Michael.

There was a replacement trainer who came in to prepare Daniel, but Daniel honestly just wasn’t vibing with him. It wasn’t so much _him_ as it was the fact that he just...wasn’t Michael.

“Sorry,” he said as he dropped the tennis ball for the umpteenth time. “Just a little distracted.”

“We’ll just do some stretches, then, and come back to this later,” Paul said – well, Daniel wasn’t actually sure his name was Paul, but. He was Paul in Daniel’s head, so that was that. He handed Daniel his earphones and Daniel put his playlist on.

The soft murmur above the music directing Daniel to his next stretch just wasn’t the same when it wasn’t Michael. And the absence of Michael’s bright smile as he gave Daniel his customary 'stop being them' pep talk and shoulder slap on the way out the door before Daniel got into his car, like he thought it’d bring Daniel good fortune, hung heavy in the air around Daniel.

But Daniel powered through it, he powered through the race and got away with his first points of the season. 

He only got to his phone after all the post-race commitments, and saw a simple text from Michael.

_< Never had a doubt. _

Daniel wasn’t able to wipe off the smile on his face for the rest of the day. He skipped the party – he felt like he didn’t really know what to do with himself now that Michael wasn’t there with him – and instead got dinner at the hotel restaurant. He took a photo of his egg fried rice and sent it to Michael.

_> Mister Sir Italiano, is this good enough for dinner?_

_< Looks good._

_> At least the eggs are cooked._

_< Oh, fuck you._

Daniel must’ve looked like a fool laughing at the table by himself.

He didn’t really care.

_> Have you eaten?_

_> Do you feel better?_

_> Tell me you’ve eaten._

_< Give me some time to type, won’t you?_

_< I had soup for breakfast. Gonna have soup for lunch and soup for dinner. How’s that?_

_> Good._

_< Life’s extremely boring without you._

_> Is this your way of flirting with me?_

_< You were the one who sent me a photo of your egg fried rice._

_< I change my mind, you’re a pain in the arse._

So dinner turned out to be fun instead of lonely. 

Daniel spent the evening texting Michael, and the race weekend seemed normal again.

\------

If Baku 2018 had been a shit show that would forever be remembered for his and Max’s rashness, 2019 would be etched into everyone’s memory for Daniel’s silliness alone.

Daniel knew he had fucked up. Racing was supposed to have its ups and downs. Good luck and bad luck. It was supposed to be risk and reward, and even when the risks didn’t pay off, that was fine because at least he’d tried. Like a professional. But to back into another car because he forgot to check his rearview mirrors? Even rookies didn’t do that.

Shame and embarrassment coloured his skin, and as he approached the pit wall to apologise to the team and his engineers, he hoped the people around them would mistake it for redness from the heat in the car.

He always tried to accept his mistakes for what they were, and own up to them, but it didn’t change the fact that he wanted to run away. 

Daniel made eye contact with Michael as he was headed back down to the press pen, wanting to get it out of the way. Michael mouthed a soft ‘chin up’ to him and softly gestured the same, only for him to see. 

_Chin up._

Daniel clung to the two words as he got through his press duties without breaking down. He sent a text to Daniil too, apologising for ruining his race.

All Daniel wanted to do was go back to his hotel room and just get under the covers and not reemerge until he was over the whole incident.

And he did exactly that, except he barged into Michael’s room instead of his own, burying himself under the covers.

Michael handed him a bottle of water and a protein bar before going away for his shower. He always knew what Daniel needed, and in this instance, Daniel just wanted Michael’s presence next to him.

Luckily, Michael came back after his shower and settled on the bed covers beside him. He smelled nice and fresh, and entirely Michael. It settled Daniel’s nerves.

With some reality show playing in the background, Michael finally turned to him. “Baku really likes putting you through the grinder, huh?”

“Well done Baku,” Daniel’s own words mocked him. He didn’t feel like he could look at Michael or he would break down

“You’re only human, Dan.”

Daniel peered up at Michael’s face, and there was no pity. Just a want to take away Daniel’s pain. 

Daniel forgot why he’d been averse to looking at Michael earlier. He now felt like he could look at Michael forever and it would be the only thing that would keep him calm.

“It’s – it’s just frustrating, I’m in this car that won’t give me the speed I’m used to or run how I want it to, and honestly? I can deal with that. But I pride myself on my driving and my attention to detail,” his voice wavered. “So, to come out of Baku once again looking like an absolute dickhead – I’d almost prefer a repeat of last year to this shit show.”

Michael’s eyebrows raised at that.

“Okay, maybe not, but. I’m just tired,” Daniel pulled the covers over his head. 

They were pulled back gently. “C’mon, mate. You can’t be beating yourself up over this. There’s gonna be better days. We just have to wait for them.”

“And I’m just gonna have to take your word on that?” Daniel asked. 

“Of course.”

“Enchanté.”

It earned him a little warm chuckle from Michael, one that brought Daniel immeasurable comfort.

Michael sat quietly next to Daniel, like he knew him just being there served Daniel well. He was right, but Daniel was too exhausted to mention it to him. He did watch Michael as Michael followed the reality show on TV, completely engrossed in it even though Daniel knew he didn’t understand the language it was in. Just peeking out from underneath the sheets and watching that made Daniel smile his first genuine smile of the day.

Daniel fell asleep at some point, and woke up in the middle of the night discovering Michael hadn’t woken him up to go shower. He sat up to check the time – 3:00 on the bedside clock – and saw Michael sleeping soundly next to him, tucked tightly under the uncomfortable woolly spare blanket from inside the closet, almost like he wasn’t warm enough and had hugged himself to sleep. 

Michael had the kindest, softest features, but he had still always looked more peaceful when he was asleep. Daniel couldn’t take his eyes off him. 

He managed to unwrap the scratchy blanket from around Michael without waking him, and shared the comforter he was under with Michael instead. Michael looked like a baby polar bear, sinking underneath it.

Michael sighed in his sleep, and it made Daniel smile for no reason. 

He fully remembered that he had his own room next door, but Daniel would genuinely rather die than go back there and be alone, for Baku would be infinitely colder without Michael around.

So he stayed where he was, a foot away from a sleepy Michael, spending the few hours till dawn wondering how Michael could make him feel so much better whether it was his words, his actions, or simply by just doing nothing at all.

\------

“Michael? Michael!? I know you’re here. That building security guard will sell you out for half a donut, just know that,” Michael heard Daniel’s voice outside his bedroom, and as he heard the footsteps get closer to his room, Daniel’s voice got lower.

“Michael?” Followed by a soft knock.

Michael looked at the papers and books littering the desk and his floor, and the unmade bed behind him making him feel like a sloth even though he hadn’t slept a wink in it. He blinked and got up to open the door just as the second knock happened.

Daniel stood across from him, eyes blown wide and expectant. They looked beautiful; even in his grey world, he knew the warmth they carried. Michael wished in that moment he could see the brown in them. 

“Hey, buddy. Thought I’d fly in earlier for next weekend, you know. I figured you’re freeloading at my place half the time I’d –” Daniel stopped when he realised Michael was just staring at him. “Are you okay?” he asked

“I am. I’m just. It’s just that I’ve got this paper to finish and my exam on Wednesday and. And it’s coming together, I –” his throat seemed to clog up on him, and his next words seemed to blur into each other. “I told Aurelie I’d be back with you before Silverstone. I just need to – I’ve got it under control.”

Michael’s eyes felt itchy and he scrubbed his hand over them. Once. Twice. Over and over before they went over his hair. It was greasy. And the old ratty sweats he was wearing probably smelled. What would Daniel think? His apartment was dirty as well.

“I’m sorry mate, I swear I’m not this unprofessional. It’s just,” Michael couldn’t stop muttering half sentences, and it bothered him. What kind of health and mental coach was he when he couldn’t even put a coherent thought together? 

He walked to the closed blinds of the living room in a few steps and tried to force them open. The latch wasn’t working, and whatever sunlight filtered in made his eyes hurt. “Fuck’s sake!” 

His arms dropped to his sides when he felt Daniel take a hold of his shoulders and turn him around. Daniel stared at Michael as if he could see past all of him and into his very soul.

“It’s fine. Look at me and breathe for me,” Daniel started breathing long and steady, like they had done before the start of every training session.

Michael tried but his lungs wouldn’t cooperate. His breaths came in short and fast bursts now, and his throat seemed to close up again. The itching in his eyes got worse and he tried to get rid of it but all that he felt were hot tears against his cheeks. Daniel checking in was his tipping point.

“I can’t. I can’t do it. I have to –” Michael tried to get the words out but there just wasn’t enough air around them.

“You don’t have to do anything except breathe right now, okay?” Michael felt Daniel hug him but he couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

Everything in his body hurt, and he tried to concentrate on Daniel’s breathing. Daniel’s hand went up and down his back and he tried to focus on the sensation instead, trying to focus on Daniel’s being instead of all the things that crowded his head. 

Michael didn’t remember when they went to the guest room, and when they’d laid in there, but he couldn’t speak. Daniel was still with him, still holding him and that was all that stopped him from falling into a million little pieces in that moment. 

He didn’t know if it was minutes later or hours, but he finally tried to sit up. “I need to do my paper.”

“No, you don’t. You need to sleep,” Daniel’s voice was low, but it held all the authority in the room. 

Michael didn’t have much fight left in him and he turned his head into Daniel’s hoodie, letting it surround him. The panic that tried to rise in him threatened to take over again. Michael fidgeted and moved around, but Daniel stayed next to him, hand still running soothingly down his back. He must've fallen asleep, and the comforting presence next to him was all he remembered before his mind went dark.

*

When Michael woke up again, he was alone in bed. The apartment seemed quiet and sunlight and wind filtered in through the open windows. He felt strangely dissociated from his own body as he got up and moved, as if he were a mere spectator.

The apartment looked clean. He stood in the doorway to his room and all his papers had been organised, his books stacked into neat piles. The bedding had been changed.

The door to his apartment clicked shut, making him turn around.

“Hey, you’re up,” Daniel smiled at him, carrying two bags in his hands over to the counter in the open plan kitchen. “Good timing.”

Michael followed him and sat at one of the kitchen stools. He put his head on his folded arms at the breakfast bar, eyes following Daniel’s figure as he moved around the room for a while before placing a cup in front of Michael. 

“Check if it tastes alright. I know you like your coffee milky but I can’t see what colour it is, so.” 

Michael remembered how he was the one that usually got them coffee for them in the mornings, but was only slightly surprised Daniel knew how he liked his.

“You’re not supposed to be here taking care of me, Dan,” Michael said.

“And you’re not supposed to be taking care of me all year long, but you do it anyway.”

“I’m your coach. I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

“My coach. Not my nanny. But you do it anyway. Now, drink up. And then get in the shower, I can’t Febreeze you as well,” Daniel grinned at him, making him smile.

Other than that, Michael stayed quiet and sipped at his coffee while watching Daniel scrolling on his phone. Then he went for that shower, if only for Daniel’s sake. 

Music was engulfing the whole place when he came out, and when Daniel saw him, he directed him back to the kitchen.

“I made you scrambled eggs on toast.” 

“The height of all culinary skills.” 

“Fuck you.”

Michael laughed and dug into his food. The sound sat well with him, and he felt more normal. He bumped his shoulder against Daniel’s when he took the seat beside him, his little way of showing his gratitude for Daniel being with him here, helping him ground to reality after the previous night.

When the dishes were cleared, Daniel handed him his laptop and led him to the living room. 

“I’m just gonna do my stretches, and you can study for your exam. And when you don’t feel like it, we’ll take a break and go for a run or to the gym. Whatever you want.” 

And that’s exactly what they did. Michael went over his notes, seeing Dan in his line of vision from time to time, bending at every odd angle. It made him feel normal, when Daniel was across from him doing what they did most mornings. As far as lives went, he really couldn’t complain when he got to spend most of his days with this guy in the motorsport circus, traveling the world. 

They went to a little café run by some graduates near the university for a late lunch, and Michael felt more and more like himself as the day progressed. 

“Thanks, mate. For everything.” Michael said when they were walking back.

“You idiot. I’m your friend first, and client later. I’ve seen you piss your pants over a C in middle school. Why didn’t you tell me you were so stressed?”

Michael tried to remember the incident with the C in middle school. That’s how they had met. They were both into sports and saw each other across the football field, but never talked. Until one day Daniel had spotted him sniffing over the graded paper he held in his hand. 

Michael had thought he was alone and could cry in peace, but then the grand speech Daniel had given him about all of school being a scam to keep the kids in ‘The Machine’ followed by handing him a Creme Egg had made Michael laugh out of his skin. They’d been friends ever since.

“I guess I just didn’t realise how much I was taking on, or how it was even stressing me. Yesterday was just a rough day, what with Lachlan’s birthday and...then everything else.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Michael didn’t want to add anything else.

“Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. Whatever it is, we’ll do it together, okay?” Daniel looked at him with such an open and earnest gaze, Michael had to swallow back the emotions he felt rise in the back of his throat.

He nodded. He had to be okay. For himself, and for Daniel.

\------

Daniel’s home in Los Angeles was tucked into a corner of Beverly Hills, the boundary of the house lined with trees that made Michael feel like they were in their own little corner of heaven. 

Michael woke up early that morning, and as was true for most mornings, got to cooking breakfast. He played a good dance tune on the speakers that hummed through their part of the house. It felt therapeutic, moving around the wood and marble kitchen in the early morning light. 

Michael had gotten his grades back the night before, and they were fucking stellar, if he did say so himself. 

That day from his finals came back to him, making a little shudder run down his spine. He tried to remember the fear that had tightened his chest but all he could remember was the warmth that Daniel had tried to envelope him in all week long, hugging him every chance he got, making sure he was next to Michael while he revised or did his assignment, in whatever capacity he needed. 

They had stayed in the apartment most of that week, and it felt like a different type of domesticity to their norm in Monaco, where the days were planned around Daniel’s schedule. This was just them existing around each other, doing what they needed to do, being there for one another. Michael had let Daniel take care of him, and the relief he felt in someone else taking control of his life for that one week had made the hunch in his shoulders finally unwind.

“You better have a good reason for ruining my beauty sleep at 9 am on a Friday morning, motherfucker,” Daniel came into the kitchen with his hair in disarray, his eyes still puffy. 

They had come back home relatively late after their bar crawl with Max, who was sleeping in one of the guest bedrooms on the other side of the house. Michael had been the only one to hold back, and it honestly showed.

“You really shouldn’t be talking shit when I’m about to serve you breakfast.”

And he was quite proud of the plated up eggs florentine, putting down two plates on the kitchen island.

“Can you grab the orange juice, mate?” 

Daniel returned from the fridge with the juice and let out a guttural noise at the sight of the food. “I could kiss you right now.”

It really wouldn’t be too awful, Michael thought, but stopped himself. Maybe he was a little more hungover than he had thought, after all.

“Eat up. I’ve got a session lined up for you.”

“Why do you say it like that?” Daniel said, alarmed by Michael’s tone.

“Because it’s heavy metal. I fly out tonight, remember? No workouts for the next few days. We have to make up for that.”

“Oh. I completely forgot about that.” 

Michael felt a sinking feeling at the thought of leaving Daniel. He’d be fine of course, and he probably wouldn’t want Michael watching closely on his Vegas weekend anyway, but.

“You’ll be deep playing out your Danny Ocean fantasies while I babysit for my sister in San Francisco.”

“I could come with you, you know?” 

Michael scoffed. Daniel was really mocking him now.

“No, thanks. I won’t be explaining to anyone why my seven and four year old nieces think ‘cheers, cunt’ is an acceptable form of greeting all of a sudden.”

Daniel laughed it off.

But Michael suddenly really, really wished Daniel would do just that and fly out with him instead.

\------

Daniel decided to drive to Vegas instead of flying out. He loved the open roads in America. 

He had planned this before he knew Michael would be leaving for that particular week. Now, having dropped Michael off at the airport, Daniel drove alone on the highway. 

He didn’t resent Michael for leaving, of course not. But he really had become so used to the calming presence Michael always carried around him, and he almost expected him to be by his side at all times. Daniel suppressed the urge to fidget. He was alone on the Vegas Strip for a long weekend and he was going to make the most of it, no matter what. 

When he bumped into Charles and his brother in the hotel lobby, it came as a pleasant surprise.

He took a selfie with Charles, sending it to Max and Michael separately once he left.

_> Guess who I met in Vegas?_

He stopped himself from cooing at the selfie he received in return from Michael smiling wide with his two nieces holding plates of what looked like homemade cookies.

_< Not everyone is meant for the Michael Italiano diet plan._

He later snapped back a picture of his steak tartare with quail’s egg yolk on top at the restaurant.

_> Sadly, I am a converted man._

Daniel put away his phone when he entered the hotel casino later. Champagne flutes seemed to appear magically from the minute he stepped in, and it was all the encouragement needed to pour needless money into bets at the different tables.

He saw Charles, Arthur and Pierre at one of the tables and joined them. 

Daniel could’ve sworn he never mentioned Max to Charles when he got a text from Max later that night, but he didn’t think too much of it, mind cloudy from the champagne.

He returned to his room around dawn and collapsed into the bed, a strange sense of loneliness in his heart only masked by the alcohol in his system.

*

His phone was teeming with texts when he woke up late in the afternoon the next day.

_< That was a lot of fun. I hope you’ll join us for dinner tonight._

He didn’t even know he had Charles’s number saved. The next one came in from Max.

_< What hotel are you set up at? I’m flying in today._

He was only coherent enough to share their location.

And finally, there was a text from Michael.

_< Ask the hotel to send up a kale smoothie with some aspirin. You deserve the pain for enjoying without me though._

Daniel smiled down at his phone like an idiot before replying with a silly selfie.

When he went down for dinner later that day and saw Max already seated with Charles, Arthur, and Pierre, he didn’t blink an eye.

“You really can’t get enough of me, can you, Verstappen?”

Max’s face changed when he saw Daniel. “Oh yeah. I’m your biggest fan Daniel, please sign my ass on your way out. Please, Daniel.”

“Enchanté.”

The three French speakers at the table gave him confused looks, but Daniel ignored it, taking the seat next to Max.

Conversation flowed easily over a good dinner, and soon it was time for them to leave. Daniel didn’t have to do too much to convince them to go to the arcade.

The arcade was one of Daniel’s favourite parts of Las Vegas, with games ranging from the latest virtual reality set ups to older ones dating back to the seventies. The low fluorescent lights sometimes irritated him, with greys blurring into each other, but it was a whole different world of its own, and soon they all had tickets to lose themselves in it.

An hour into their arcade adventures, Daniel stood alone at the claw machine, trying to see if he could beat the rigged game. The others had all wandered off on their own somewhere along the way. Daniel heard them all screaming in laughter at the basketball hoops at one point.

Daniel didn’t mind. He was okay to wander on his own, and having wasted multiple tokens on the claw machine, he decided to give up.

Daniel spotted Max and Charles sitting at one of the Daytona twin stations. Max was smiling from ear to ear, laughing at something Charles had said. Charles followed every move Max made, as if speaking just to keep Max laughing, smiling softly the entire time. Just looking at them made Daniel happy, too. 

But suddenly, there was this intense want in his chest. To look at someone the way Charles was looking at Max right now. To make them laugh. To just find easy companionship.

To just be.

He thought of Michael. The only person to fit that description.

Before he could stop himself, he got his phone out and texted Michael.

_> Pierre’s so shit at basketball._

_> If only you were here to school him. _

Daniel sat at one of the empty claw machines waiting for a response, suddenly not knowing what to do with himself until he received a reply from Michael.

_< Is that a compliment, Mr. Ricciardo?_

Daniel sat grinning to himself what would only be described by Michael as a shit-eating grin. 

_> Your jump shot is only half as crappy as his. There’s your compliment._

_< Crappy jump shot? Men under 6 foot don’t really get a say on basketball._

_< You can’t get mad about being called short. You started it._

Daniel laughed out loud at that. Like, actually, physically laughed out. In the middle of a Vegas arcade texting his best friend. He really was living the life.

\------

Sunday at Suzuka was unconventional, if anyone asked Daniel.

The day started off shitty, with Daniel not even getting out of Q1. But at least it meant that he had a longer break before the race – when he told Michael that, all he received was a judgemental stare and a nudge to start his warmups.

But the race went pretty well, despite the heavy wind and the kerbs only completely drying off after a few laps. Daniel had a decent race, climbing his way up within the points before pitting. He was up in sixth by the last couple of laps when he was radioed.

“Daniel, please come back to the pits.”

The lights started flashing on his steering wheel, indicating a red flag.

“What happened?” Daniel asked. “I’m coming.”

“Nice and slow.”

“What happened?” Daniel asked again.

“There was a serious accident at turn two.”

“Involving?”

“Leclerc and Verstappen.”

Daniel made it to the pits and lined up; he was only behind three cars. He tried asking what had happened to Max and Charles, but no one would tell him. 

The race was called off before the ten-minute warning period had even ended.

Daniel climbed out of his car and ran back towards the Renault garages.

\------

Michael could understand why they didn’t tell Daniel what had happened over the radio. 

It looked like Charles’s car would never stop twisting and rolling. And when it did, Michael could almost hear his heart thump the same moment Charles's car hit the ground. 

Max didn’t climb out of his car before the camera cut away. 

Of course, given how safety had advanced in the sport over the years, and given how other drivers had walked out of barrel rolls without so much as a scratch in the past few years, Michael wouldn’t have been surprised if Charles did the same. 

Which was why it was so strange that he _hadn’t_.

Daniel came charging in just a few seconds after the race was called off. “What happened?” he demanded, pulling off his helmet. “Are they okay? How serious is it?”

No one really answered him, but the murmurs around the garage gave him his answer. So did the fact that the live broadcast had stopped showing replays of the accident.

Michael followed Daniel as he charged across the pit lane to the pit wall, where there was special footage being aired. “What’ve we got?” he asked as he watched the replay of the crash, but everyone just stared at him like they weren’t sure if they should tell him. “Fuck, just fucking tell me, won’t anyone?”

No one dared defy an angry Ricciardo.

“They’re both unconscious,” Cyril eventually said. “EMTs are already there.”

“Fuck,” Daniel said again. He turned around and saw Michael standing helplessly behind him. Michael saw a kind of frenzy in his eyes like he’d never seen. He grabbed one of Michael’s forearms. “Michael. Michael.”

Michael didn’t know what to say to him. He just brought Daniel back to his driver’s room and got him a Gatorade, and then watched Daniel pace around restlessly. 

“Nothing can happen to them,” Daniel said, like he was their guardian angel trying to will that into existence.

“Nothing will. They’ll be okay,” Michael said.

“They’re so young. They’re too young.”

Moments later Cyril opened the door. “Daniel,” he called. “Verstappen and Leclerc have been sent to the hospital. There’s a car for you if you want to go.”

“Do we have any news about their condition?” Daniel asked.

“No,” Cyril said, but upon Daniel’s intense, prodding stare, relented. “Verstappen is in shock. Leclerc had to have his heart restarted.”

“God,” Daniel whispered, immediately breaking down in tears. He crouched on the ground like he couldn’t physically hold himself together enough to stand. “Fuck. Fuck.”

Michael lifted him to his feet. “Do you want to go to the hospital?” he whispered in Daniel’s ear.

“Come with me,” Daniel said, his voice breaking at the end of the sentence. 

“There’s space in the car,” Cyril said. 

So Michael ended up in the backseat of a car packed with Daniel and two other drivers – Albon and Norris, Michael knew that by now – in a completely silent ride to the hospital.

Daniel only seemed to stop crying when they were able to get outside Max’s room. There was only a small window in the door, but Daniel stood by it for a while as everyone else settled in the chairs. Michael got a coffee from the vending machine and handed it to him. 

“This doesn’t deserve being called coffee,” Daniel remarked after a sip.

He was lashing out, Michael could tell, so he took that as a thank you. It couldn’t have been easy, almost losing someone he cared for in another car accident, thirteen years after the first.

It couldn’t have been easy, seeing someone he was so close to lying in a hospital bed, unconscious. It _wasn’t_ easy. Michael remembered.

\------

Daniel could tell Michael was uncomfortable being in the hospital. He would’ve felt regret asking Michael to go along, had he had any strength to have a mental filter.

He found Michael near the nurses’ counter, probably the only place he felt comfortable, not seeing a patient in a bed. He was leaning against a wall and chewing on a protein bar.

“I get it if you want to leave,” Daniel said to him. “It’s not nice here.”

Michael cracked a sad smile. “Yeah, I’ll go back to the hotel.”

“I’ll call,” Daniel said. He suddenly felt like he didn’t want Michael to leave, but. He knew Michael would be better off away from this place. It was probably more colourless to him than it already was through Daniel’s eyes. 

Michael’s smile trembled for a moment, then he stepped forward and wrapped Daniel up in a tight hug. Daniel melted into it; Michael’s arms were a warm welcome away from the coldness of the corridors. His strong hands rubbed soothingly up and down Daniel’s back. 

And somehow Daniel knew everything was going to be okay. 

He found Pierre and Arthur outside Charles’s room, watching him. It looked painful, all the tubes and needles under his skin. 

But he was alive, so that was something. 

Daniel went back to Max’s room, a floor up and on the other side of the building. There was only one chair inside, so Max’s dad took it. Daniel sat outside, sandwiched between Lando and Alex, trying to avoid eye contact with Christian.

An hour later, Max woke up.

The first thing he did was abandon his bed and charge down the hall before anyone could stop him. Everyone sat stunned for a while before Max was dragged back by Pierre about twenty minutes later.

Pierre’s shirt looked...different from when Daniel had seen him earlier. It looked a little less grey. Daniel could almost see a little bit of what he remembered was blue.

Before he could ask Pierre where he'd gotten a new shirt – because Daniel sure as hell wanted to change out of his stinky Renault t-shirt – or even ponder too much about that, the doctor came out of Max’s room and Daniel caught Max starting to cry again.

Out of everyone in the hallway, Max summoned Daniel and Nick.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Daniel smiled as they stopped next to Max’s bed. He was glad Max was okay. Of course, he’d known Max ended up much better off in the accident than Charles, but it was still a relief seeing him with his eyes open. 

After all, Daniel hadn't been so lucky the first time around.

“Charles is my soulmate,” Max whispered.

Daniel couldn’t even begin to describe how little he had anticipated that sentence to come out of Max’s mouth.

But suddenly, all the times he’d caught Charles gazing wistfully at Max made complete sense.

“What?” Daniel eventually said, at the same time as Nick.

“He’s my soulmate,” Max said. “When his heart stopped, my world went fucking grey.”

Daniel remembered the bag of bread in his hands. Green to grey.

“Holy fuck, Max,” Nick said. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m –” a sob caught in Max’s throat. “I just – Charles, he – I could’ve killed him. I’ve been searching for him my whole life and I watched him die – I killed him before I could have him.”

“You didn’t kill him,” Daniel said. He sat down on the edge of Max’s bed. “He’s okay now. He made it.”

“Dan,” Max sobbed. “When it turned to grey –”

“I know,” Daniel interrupted him. He knew. _You didn’t just lose the colour. You lost a part of yourself. And in that moment you knew you were never going to be the same person again. I know. Because I’m not. _“I know.”

“Do you think he knew?” Max asked. “That we’re soulmates?”

“I don’t know, mate,” Daniel said. All he knew was, all this talk about soulmates made him want an ice cold beer.

“You just have to wait for him to wake up and tell you,” Nick contributed. “Yeah? He’ll wake up and tell you.”

“He will, yeah?”

“‘Course he will,” Daniel smiled. Despite everything – despite the little twinge of envy in his chest, he was happy that Max had found his soulmate. “Can’t you feel it? In your heart? How much he wants to talk to you?”

Max calmed down enough after that to go for dinner with them, though he took like, one bite, and then he was off to watch Charles. 

Daniel found him sitting inside Charles’s room, in the little couch near the window, leaning back and watching Charles. He looked like he was crying again. A few minutes later he stood up and moved to the uncomfortable-looking chair by Charles’s bedside, taking Charles’s heavily intubated hand and pressing it on his cheek. He carded his fingers through Charles’s hair with his free hand, then cupped Charles’s cheek, like he thought he could physically provide Charles with the strength to wake up. He lifted himself slightly off his chair to kiss Charles on the forehead.

Daniel wished he had been given a similar second chance after the accident thirteen years ago.

But seeing Max get his own second chance brought Daniel some sort of comfort.

Daniel just wanted to talk to someone – to talk to Michael because Michael was the only person in the whole world who understood Daniel more than Daniel did himself. Michael was the only person who would understand how Daniel felt looking at all of this. How he could feel comfort and happiness for Max and yet at the same time just be so...nostalgic and disappointed. The only one who could understand Daniel if he’d told him that he would rather have never seen colour at all than have it taken away from him before it was due, without calling Daniel a spoiled and selfish brat. Only Michael would understand, and only Michael would unconditionally support Daniel and wrap him up in a warm hug that made Daniel forget all the troubles in the world.

Daniel just yearned for that so badly.

Max eventually saw Daniel outside the room, so he came outside. He stood by the door looking just like a sad baby bird, and Daniel couldn’t help but hug him tightly. 

“Daniel,” he whispered. He sounded so exhausted. He looked so exhausted. The bags under his eyes looked a starker grey.

“He’s going to be okay,” Daniel said.

“I was put into this world to love him. My destiny is to love him,” Max sobbed. “And instead I – I killed him.”

“You didn’t. Okay, hush now. Do you want to go back to your room?”

Max shook his head, so Daniel planted him in one of the chairs outside Charles’s room. He didn’t seem to be able to support himself, so Daniel tucked him under his arm for the night.

It was then that the entire day – qualifying, fifty laps of the race, the deja vu, and the hospital – took its toll on Daniel, and he fell asleep on the hard backs of the hospital chairs without remembering to call Michael.

\------

Michael waited all night for Daniel’s call, but it didn’t come.

He missed the flight back to Monaco, only so he could see Daniel again when he left the hospital, and not one minute later. He knew car accidents were as difficult for Daniel as hospitals were for Michael. 

Michael was always in awe of how Daniel put that aside every weekend to strap himself in a carbon fiber husk and race around a track at three hundred kilometers an hour.

He genuinely just wanted to hug Daniel. Kind, strong-willed Daniel. 

Michael didn’t sleep a wink. The hospital took a heavier toll on him than he’d expected, and he stepped in the shower thrice throughout the night but couldn’t wash the feeling away. 

What alleviated it, though, was the thought of Daniel putting on a brave face for everyone around him.

Michael smiled at the thought. He picked up his phone and checked for a call or a text from Daniel, of which there were none. So he put his phone back down in disappointment.

The back of his phone was a different grey than he remembered. It almost had a twinge of what Michael remembered as green. Michael attributed it to his exhaustion and the fact that his phone case was dirty from all the use.

Because he genuinely had nothing else to do except worry about Daniel – and that boy Charles – he got out of bed, grabbed a towel, and started scrubbing the back of his phone case. 

The strange little tinge of colour didn’t go away by the time Michael received Daniel’s text at half past six in the morning.

_< How are you doing?_

_< I’m coming back to the hotel._

Michael’s heart just felt so warm, the grey of the text bubble almost seemed blue.

_> Breakfast?_

_< Sure._

_> Meet you downstairs._

_< Be there in 20._

_< Warning, I smell like shit. _

Michael didn’t care one bit, as long as Daniel was around.

\------

When Daniel woke up, the sun was just rising outside the hospital.

Max had moved back inside the room and was sleeping on the white couch. Daniel crept inside to say bye to him, but he continued sleeping, so Daniel just ruffled his hair and left him with Pierre. He texted Michael he was going back – Michael replied with surprising efficiency given the time of day – and hopped into a taxi, hoping he wouldn’t stink up the poor fella’s car too much.

Michael was in the lobby to greet Daniel before he even got to the restaurant. The moment Daniel saw him, everything around him brightened, the fresh morning sun seeming to cast a bright, lighter grey hue on everything. 

“Hey, Mikey,” Daniel found the strength to smile at him. 

“Danny,” Michael shot right back, with a big grin of his own. Daniel was glad that he was over being dragged to the hospital. “Good morning.”

“C’mon, let’s get me something to fill this bottomless pit,” Daniel rubbed his stomach.

He started walking towards the restaurant but Michael pulled him back by the wrist, spinning Daniel backwards so he ended up in Michael’s arms. 

The beginning of the Japanese winter suddenly felt like spring to Daniel. 

He closed his eyes; Michael smelled like home, and he felt like home, and all of a sudden all of Daniel’s problems melted away along with the dawn. 

“Must’ve been an awful night,” Michael whispered, his voice right into Daniel’s ear. Daniel hoped he couldn’t smell the whole of Daniel’s yesterday, including the sweat from the race. His hands were firm on Daniel’s back again, and Daniel felt like Michael was the only thing holding his pieces together.

Daniel couldn’t even begin to find the words to form a reply, so he just squeezed Michael hard in his arms. He didn’t want to leave home again.

Michael led him to the hotel restaurant, seeming to realise that Daniel’s two feet couldn’t really function on their own. He found them a table and deposited Daniel at it before going to get them some food at the breakfast buffet. He brought back two servings of salad and toast, then waited at the chef’s counter for some eggs. He eventually returned with a plate of three sunny side-up eggs, placing them in the middle of the table.

“Dig in,” he said. When Daniel looked up at him, he had the softest smile on his face, and somehow Daniel knew that the night had been just as hard for Michael as it had been for Daniel.

Daniel went for the eggs first, like he always did. Eggs had always been his favourite food on Michael’s short list of permitted dishes.

When he cut into it with his knife, the yolk that flowed over the plain white of the rest of the dish was a full, bright yellow. 

\------

Daniel was quiet throughout breakfast. 

It would have been strange under normal circumstances, but Michael understood it in the context of the shitty day Daniel had just been through. He accompanied Daniel back to his room, wanting to help around with whatever he could. 

“How’s Charles doing?” Michael asked, just. Just to kickstart some conversation.

“He’s stable, probably gonna sleep a couple more days, or something,” Daniel said, picking some clothes off the floor and throwing them on the bed. “Oh, and Max and Charles are soulmates.”

“Really?” Michael couldn’t help but chuckle. All the times he’d caught the Monegasque sneaking glances at and being shy around Max suddenly checked out. “Oh, that makes so much sense.”

“Right?” Daniel smiled. It brightened up the entire room.

Daniel continued picking clothes off the floor. It was amazing how much of a child he could be when he wanted to, honestly. 

There was a Renault hoodie half hidden under Daniel’s bed. Daniel reached for it. 

When he lifted it into Michael’s view, the yellow of it almost blinded Michael against the black and white of the rest of the room.

Michael blinked at it.

The yellow remained, bright as ever. 

In fact, Michael could see the yellow on the shoulder of the Renault t-shirt Daniel had on; the yellow that was, just less than twelve hours ago, a light shade of grey.

His gaze darted to Daniel, who was staring wordlessly at the hoodie he held in his hand. He blinked at it a couple of times, too, then turned to Michael.

“Do you –” Michael started.

“Yes,” Daniel’s whisper was frantic. He took a few steps, rounding the bed and getting closer to Michael before dropping the hoodie back on the ground altogether. He stopped two steps in front of Michael. 

Daniel’s eyes were in a frenzy again, though a different kind than they were the previous day at the track. They darted rapidly across Michael’s face.

Michael saw the now-familiar grey in them turn into the gentle brown that he’d last seen almost three years ago.

The colour bled from Daniel’s brown eyes to the pink of his cheeks and the scarlet of his lips. To his curls, from full black to the slightest hue of gold. It flowed down Daniel’s arms, now tanner than Michael remembered, to the deep blue of his cherub. To the vibrant reds and greens and blues of his tattoo, peeking out of his shorts. And to the yellow of his Vans, which he’d bought just to match his new team colours, even though he couldn’t see them.

The colour continued permeating the surroundings with Daniel being the epicenter, but Michael wasn’t interested.

Daniel was watching Michael with the same sort of awe Michael was feeling. When their eyes met, Daniel smiled, and the room burst into technicolour.

“Michael,” he whispered, stepping forward so there was barely any space between them.

Daniel had always looked beautiful, even when he was tired out of his wits, like he was that morning. Even at his lowest lows, Daniel still looked like one of God’s biggest masterpieces.

He looked even more exquisite in colour.

“Daniel,” Michael said. He placed both his palms on Daniel’s cheeks, half expecting the rosiness in them to disappear and return to grey when he let go. It didn’t, and when Michael ran his hands through Daniel’s luscious curls, they were soft under his grasp. Daniel keened up into Michael’s palm, eyes fluttering shut. “You’re my –”

“Soulmate,” Daniel finished. When he opened his eyes again, they were shimmering with tears. “Oh, Michael.”

Michael caught Daniel’s tears with his thumbs, though they kept coming and coming, like Daniel was just releasing all of his exasperation from the previous night and replacing it with disbelief and newfound hope. Michael felt it deep in his own bones.

Daniel curled his fingers around Michael’s wrists. Firmly, like he never wanted to let go. His eyes caught Michael’s again, golden under his tears.

Michael leaned forward and pressed his lips on Daniel’s. They were soft as hell and they sent a pleasant shiver up Michael’s spine, and the world around them blurred into nothingness as Michael realised he’d forgotten how it felt like to belong somewhere until that very moment. Michael let out a gasp, and Daniel followed, breathless.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” Daniel whispered frantically.

“I don’t care,” Michael breathed. For once in his life, he really didn’t. “I don’t care.”

Daniel smiled into the kiss. “Me neither,” he said.

Michael wrapped his arms around Daniel’s waist, pulling him slightly on his tiptoes as their bodies rocked in unison. Daniel didn’t seem to know where to put his hands, so they clung on desperately to different parts of Michael’s back, warm on every part of Michael they touched.

He didn’t want to let go of Daniel, but he eventually had to, or his heart would make a successful escape from his ribcage. He pressed his head on Daniel’s as their quick breaths warmed each other’s cheeks.

“I saw the eggs at breakfast,” Daniel breathed heavily. His hands grasped two fistfuls of Michael’s shirt, lifting it slightly. “They were yellow.”

“Is that why you were so quiet? In shock?” Michael chuckled. “Should’ve known those lips weren’t sealed for no reason.”

“Oh, you were looking at my lips, now, were you?” Daniel whispered, gently nuzzling his nose against Michael’s.

“Couldn’t help myself,” Michael said. Daniel’s eyes had a mischievous gleam to them. They seemed to burst into fireworks when Michael continued, “But now I have other ways to keep that mouth in check.”

Daniel gave a guttural groan, then closed the gap between his and Michael’s lips again, this time open-mouthed, allowing Michael to explore inside it with his tongue. He slammed Daniel against the wall behind him and gobbled up the breath and the little moan that Daniel gave as he slid his hand up the back of Michael’s shirt, his palm hot against Michael’s already-warm skin. Michael grabbed one of Daniel’s thighs and slung it around him, and Daniel struggled to catch up.

“Fuck, Michael,” Daniel groaned. Michael felt the vibration of his Adam’s apple under his thumb.

_Thought we were heading towards that, _Michael thought, but didn’t say. 

“I fucking heard that,” Daniel continued. 

Michael had almost forgotten what it was like to have a soulmate in his head. He laughed and let go of Daniel, who sighed.

“I just wanna –” Daniel ran his hand through his curls; Michael wanted to do that for him. “You know, when we’re at home, or...somewhere nicer, you know?”

“Quite the romantic, aren’t you?” Michael smirked.

“You already know, Mikey.”

They stood there smiling at each other like idiots.

“So it _is _real,” Daniel said softly. “Finding colour again.”

Michael smiled. “Maybe just for special people,” he said. “People who know how to love. Like you.”

“And people who want to let themselves be loved, like you.”

Michael kissed him again, this time briefly.

It sent the same shiver up his spine and the same flutter through his chest.

He had to fully let go of Daniel so Daniel could shower off his yesterday, so he waited in Daniel’s bed. His phone fell out of his pocket, the back of it scrubbed raw, but now a full teal green like it was meant to be when Michael had noticed it earlier that morning.

Suddenly, it all fell into place.

Michael sat in bed, taking in all the colours of the room. It’d been in black and white much longer for Daniel than for him, but he’d missed it anyway.

When Daniel came out of the shower, the room became infinitely brighter.

“Does this blind you as much as it blinds me?” Daniel asked, hopping into bed wearing the yellow Renault hoodie. When Michael turned to him, he was grinning like the fucking sun.

“I was right,” Michael said. “The yellow brings out the shit-eating grin on your face.”

“Then it’s too bad it was the first colour you saw.”

“Yeah, only reminded me how much of an arse you are.”

Daniel laughed. He settled down next to Michael, half on the pillow, half wedged in Michael’s shoulder. 

“Well, this arse is going to love you out of your mind, Michael Italiano.”

Michael had not a sliver of a doubt that he would. After all, Daniel had been waiting for years to get to love someone again.

Michael was just happy that the universe had chosen him for this purpose.

**Author's Note:**

> We hope you found all the Easter eggs (literally) throughout the fic!


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